


Through The Dark

by Aerona13



Series: Through The Dark [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, larry stylinson - Freeform, slight AU, slight Ziam - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 21:07:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 54,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1361836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerona13/pseuds/Aerona13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry gets attacked after slipping his guard one night, Louis is the one to find him.<br/>What happens when Harry is forced to recuperate at Louis' flat to keep his injuries secret? Can Louis continue to hide his feelings for the younger boy? Will Louis be able to help Harry heal? Together, can they make it through their tour intact?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Live While We're Young

**Author's Note:**

> I swore I would never do a song fic, but this wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it, so here it is. Each chapter will be based on a set of lyrics from a 1D song. They will NOT - I repeat NOT - go along with the meaning of the song, just the actual words from the lyrics, so don't get upset. The lyrics used will be in the notes.  
> Any mistakes are my own. I have no Beta.  
> Constructive criticism is fine. Flames do what they do best; burn into nothing.  
> Compliments are appreciated, and remembered forever.
> 
> Live While We're Young  
> “I'm waitin' on ya, I'm waitin' on ya/  
> Come on and let me sneak you out.”

“Come on, Paul. I need to take a wee.” Harry Styles put his hand on his bodyguard's arm and nodded toward the public loos.  
Paul glanced up the street and sighed. Girls were starting to congregate with their phones out. A few more minutes and even his worst steely glare wouldn't be enough to hold back the mob. “Can it wait?”  
Harry was all but hopping with urgency like a little kid. “Nope. Just a quick stop. You can keep them from breaking down the door.”  
“Fine. Make it fast.” Paul did a quick check to make sure the stalls were empty before heading back to guard the door.  
“Good lad.”  
The moment the door closed, Harry grinned. Now was his chance! Moving quickly, but quietly, he climbed onto the the back of one of the loos and easily slid open the frosted glass window, just like his friend has promised would happen. A quick look showed that there were no fans in sight so he boosted himself through and landed softly on his feet.  
Five minutes later, his phone started buzzing and he ignored it. He'd make it up to Paul later. Now, he had a party to get to.

The sky was already bright with the coming dawn as Harry climbed through his second bathroom window of the night. This one was the Uni's girl dormitory loo and he sincerely hoped no one had snapped a pic of him going in. Unfortunately, it was on the third floor so he had to get down three flights of rickety fire escape without anyone noticing. He shivered and grimaced as a bit of raw egg moved under his collar and down his back. Without thinking, he ran his fingers through his curls and came away with a slimy hand.  
He definitely owed Jen an apology, he realized. After all, the egg-throwing party-crashers only came because someone tweeted that he was there. Hopefully, now that he was out of the crowd, they'd leave the students alone to continue partying. Too bad, though. It was a great party and he'd been having a blast hanging out with his old friend.  
The phone in his pocket buzzed yet again and, figuring he'd have to deal with the fury of his team sooner or later, he wiped the egg off on his pants and fished it out. Yeah, there were about fifty texts waiting for him, but what caught his attention was the notification of a new trend -  
#thrutheloo. Harry Styles escapes fans through loo window.  
He was almost doubled over with laughter at the picture of Paul halfway out the window as he jumped down the last few steps and headed for somewhere private where he could wait to be picked up.  
Several meters later, a rock skittered at his feet. He looked down, confused, because, even drunk as he was, he knew he hadn't kicked it. A yell from behind had him glancing back and cursing. The egg-throwers were back and he had no crowd to get lost in.  
He was turning to run when he saw something flying toward his head. He ducked but didn't worry too much. Eggshells only stung a little on impact, he'd found out. So the slicing pain in his temple shocked him as much as hurt and he stumbled to his knees as his head spun. He looked down and started to feel real fear.  
Oh, shit! They were throwing rocks!  
Getting to his feet, he felt something drip down his cheek and he wiped it away, staring a moment in shock when he saw it was blood. Was this really happening? A second yell and laughter was closer and he looked around desperately for a way to escape. Maybe there was an early morning dog-walker or jogger? No luck.  
Harry heard the sound of cars driving by down a dark alley and, though he hesitated, he started running toward the noise. Surely whatever pictures and media-attention his appearance caused couldn't be worse than what the drunk men following him were planning.  
He was halfway down the alley when he realized his mistake. There was a high brick wall standing between him and the traffic. Between him and safety. And the gang had just blocked the only way out.  
The leader, who didn't like that a “queer little fag-boy” was “takin' all the hot women,” was tossing a fist-sized rock back and forth in his hands like he was just waiting for the perfect time to throw it. He was laughing lowly and the three men ranged behind him were echoing.  
Harry was scared out his mind and had no idea what to do. So he put on his “famous and untouchable” persona, hoping that would work. Boldly facing them when he wanted to hide and cower, he asked, “You lads want an autograph?”  
“Sure, fag-boy. How 'bout we get it written in your blood?” Leader asked. Lackeys 1 through 3 found it hilarious and Harry felt said blood chill a little. All four were casually walking closer and all he had to hide behind or use to defend himself was an overfilled dumpster and the bags inside. Not exactly an arsenal.  
“I don't think that'll work, but if you all want to go away and find a pen together, I'll wait right here for you. I promise.” He made a little shooing motion.  
Apparently, Leader didn't want to chit chat anymore because his only answer was a sneer. He jerked his head and Lackeys 1 and 2 slowly moved to flank Harry. Number 3 stayed behind to guard the alley entrance. Harry couldn't help but feel like they'd done something like this before, but he pushed the thought out of his mind, staying focused on that rock in Leader's hands. That would definitely do more than sting if it connected.  
“Lads, really, I'm honored that you like me this much, but I really need to get back. If you could just run along, I'll call my driver and we'll never see each other again.”  
The “driver” reminder might have been too much, Harry realized when Leader sneered again. “What, little fag-boy can't handle us on his own? Wasn't that was you said back at the party?”  
More ill-advised words from a drunk mouth that Harry could kick himself for. He'd also called them “manky slags” but there was no reason to remind them of that at the moment. Best to do that right before the door of his limo slams shut behind him.  
“J-Just giving you a chance to back down.” That's right, Styles, don't show fear. Haha.  
Number 2 stumbled over a trash bag and, before he could think, Harry turned, hoping maybe for a chance to escape.  
That was his mistake.  
The moment his eyes weren't on Leader, the man threw the rock. This one wasn't aimed for Harry's head. It hit right on target with Harry's sternum and sent the teen to his knees, trying to regain his breath. Lackeys 1 and 2 were instantly there to haul Harry to his feet to receive Leader's fist in almost exactly the same spot as the rock.  
Black spots started to form at the edges of Harry's vision as he tried desperately to gasp in some oxygen. Almost as soon as he inhaled, another punch came and knocked it right back out. He was allowed to drop to the ground and he could do nothing but groan and curl up as feet started raining down on him. He had no idea how long it lasted, but seconds seemed turn to hours because Leader was determined to keep him conscious, stopping the Lackeys from connecting with Harry's head.  
Eventually, the blows stopped and Leader grabbed Harry by the neck of his hoodie. Harry just moaned as he was shoved face-first into the brick wall, only feet from what sounded like a busy street and, surely, someone who would stop this. “Now, we'll show you what we do to nancy-boy pillow-biters who think they're better than us,” Leader whispered in his ear.  
Harry felt hands tugging at his clothes and, with energy he hadn't realized he had, he fought as hard as he could; biting, clawing, yelling, anything he could to get them to stop. But he was slammed hard several times into the bricks until his muscles turned to water and he prayed for the darkness that finally claimed him.


	2. Chapter 1: Save You Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Save You Tonight"  
>  “He'll only break ya/  
>  Leave you torn apart.”  
>  “I can't be no superman/  
>  But for you I'd be superhuman.”

Louis Tomlinson groaned and rolled over in bed as the sun shined through the window of his bedroom. He looked at his bedside clock and decided he could stay in bed another few minutes before he risked being more than slightly late.   
There was a brisk knock on his door and he pulled the pillow over his head. Of course, his body guard hated being even a minute overdue.   
Louis did not want to go anywhere today, especially not an emergency meeting with management to decide how to deal with the fan rumors about him and Harry being a couple.   
Christ, if they only knew...  
He already knew how the meeting would end; management putting forward two or three suitable females for Harry to be linked with publicly to once again solidify his reputation. Of course, Harry would have no problem with it, enjoying the attention and not knowing how Louis felt about him. But Louis felt like screaming and/or biting off his arm every time he was forced to “date” Eleanor and watch Harry go on obliviously.  
And last night's events would surely come up at the meeting. Management hated when one of the boys dodged their protective detail and for Harry to do it so publicly – thanks to Twitter – and then be seen at a Uni party with an unknown girl...Yeah, there'd be hell to pay today.  
Another knock came and Louis yelled that he was almost ready. Throwing off the duvet, he stumbled into the bathroom for a quick shower before dragging on a random outfit and beanie. There were no photo shoots scheduled so they could deal with his less than stellar grooming. It was as he headed for the door that he realized that the hoodie he'd pulled on was the one he'd “stolen” from Harry the week before. And smiled.  
Louis took pride in the fact that, of all five band members, his flat was the only one currently unknown to the fans, so it didn't take minutes of fighting through screaming girls to get to the car sent to take him to the meeting. It was probably the reason he reached the building at the same time as Niall, though the Irishman lived several blocks closer. Together, they pressed through the mass and headed up to the management offices.  
Fifteen minutes later, half an hour after the meeting was supposed to start, they were still waiting for Harry to show up.  
Looking around, Louis realized he was the only one who seemed to worry about that fact. Niall, Liam, and Zayn were discussing where they wanted to go for the last week of break before the tour started up. Management was just looking pissed off. Didn't anyone realize that Harry was never late? He never didn't show up without telling anyone. And he'd slipped Paul the night before. As far as they knew, Paul had never gotten back to him. Anything could have happened to him! What if he'd been hit by a taxi crossing the street drunk? What if he'd been kidnapped by fans and was, even now, being forced to...  
Louis realized where his thoughts going and forced himself to calm down before someone noticed his fidgeting. Glancing to make sure no one paying attention, he checked his phone to see if there had been any more sightings of Harry since the Uni party. Nope. Just a bunch of Where's Harry? tweets but those were the normal stalker/fan-girl updates. Before he could second guess himself, he sent Paul a text: H on the way 2 the mtg? W8ing 4 him. His phone's off. There, that shouldn't be suspicious.  
Five minutes later, Paul came in and Louis found himself staring at the door waiting for Harry to enter with that adorably sheepish look on his face. The door stayed closed as Paul headed over to management and spoke quietly, shaking his head. Maybe those 'Where's Harry?'s weren't just the norm.   
Seeing that the other boys didn't see what was going on, Louis casually walked over to them. “You heard from Harry?”  
They all shook their heads. “He was talking about that Uni party pretty much all day yesterday. Can't believed he fooled Paul with that loo trick,” Niall laughed. “He's probably still with that blonde girl from the picture.”  
“Don't you think Paul would have found him by now if he was still there?” Louis nodded toward the other group and his friends looked over shocked, not having noticed Paul enter.  
All of Louis' instincts were telling him something was wrong but how to do anything about it without seeming strange? Unless...they were friends, after all. Maybe it wouldn't be strange for him to be worried; Liam was starting to look concerned, too.  
“I think we should go look for him,” he blurted out.  
Everyone in the room stopped and stared at him.  
“I appreciate your concern, Louis, but we need to keep this low profile. Having you four out on the streets as well would be a bad idea.” Oh, Louis hated Caruthers, their PR guy, and his condescending tone; it was always him setting up the “dates.”  
“So make everyone believe we're not on the streets.” Louis could have kissed Zayn. “You've done it before.”  
Eventually – much too slowly for Louis' peace of mind – the plan was set and they headed out. Niall, the best (after Harry) at drawing fans' attentions, was on his way to a local radio station to stage another radio takeover. A tweet from one of the crew's new Twitter account with an old photo of all five boys would appear in a few minutes and, hopefully, it wouldn't be long before the path was clear for Louis, Liam, and Zayn (with bodyguards in tow), and most of the crew, to head for the streets in clever disguises of ball caps and trench coats. They would all cover a different area but only for an hour since that was the longest they estimated Niall would be able to hold the crowd before they grew restless.  
Sure enough, watching out the window, they saw a few girls checking their phones and showing the others around them. They could practically hear the screaming as, as an almost solid mass, the girls turned and ran in the direction of the radio station.  
Louis immediately volunteered for the blocks just behind the Uni dorm where the party was held. It was possible that Harry had gone home with someone and most private student flats were located close to the dormitories. It took a few minutes, but he finally convinced his bodyguard, Jack, to walk several meters behind him instead of on his heels. Alone, a young man bundled against the chill London morning wouldn't be noticed much in the area. A young man hiding in a ball cap and trench coat being shadowed by a 150-kilo bald man would probably be noticed. Especially if there were fans lingering from the Harry-sighting the night before.  
Spotting a group of students leaving one of the buildings, Louis crossed the street and started toward them, crossing his fingers that they wouldn't recognize him; the one flaw in their plan. Just as he passed an alley, he heard something like rustling plastic. A quick glance showed a pile of trash bags and he started to turn away; just a dog digging through the trash. But then he heard a groan that sounded distinctly human. Shrugging to himself, he decided he might as well check it out. Seeing that it was a dead-end, he signaled Jack not to follow him.  
As he got closer to the trash bags, the smell of fresh piss and vomit grew stronger and Louis forced himself not to turn back. When had he become such a nancy? It was probably just some drunk, but he should make sure whoever it was wouldn't die.   
The bare legs sticking out from under one bag caused him to pause. What drunk would be out without shoes or, it seemed, trousers. And the legs looked oddly young. Another groan came loud and clear as Louis moved another bag. And gasped.  
He knew the curls on that head currently face-down in vomit.  
Harry was laying on his side like he'd been tossed there and couldn't be bothered to move.  
Laying naked.  
“Christ, Harry. Must have been some party,” Louis muttered as he carefully moved the other boy onto his back to keep him from drowning in vomit. A third groan sounded distinctly pain-filled and Louis skipped back to dodge another wave of bile.  
Moving around behind Harry to keep out of range, Louis gave a shrill whistle and waved for his bodyguard to come. A prime example that the size:intelligence ratio isn't always right, the man didn't need to be told to call the others even as he entered the alley and spread the news that Harry was no longer missing.   
The sun emerged from behind the heavy clouds just as he reached the beginning of the trash pile.  
Louis looked back down at his friend in the light and suppressed his gasp. The smudges he'd thought were just shadows and dirt were actually massive bruises just beginning to darken. And there was blood. A lot of blood. And not all coming from the gash on the unconscious boy's temple.   
Knowing that even the completely un-self-conscious Harry would hate to be seen like this, Louis quickly pulled off his trench coat and draped it over the larger boy, trying to cover as much as possible but keep it out of the vomit pool. Sending Jack back to the end of the alley to both keep people away and show the others where they were, Louis crouched next to Harry. He wanted to run his hands through those soft curls but there was a whitish substance dried all through it and, after what he suspected had happened to Harry, he didn't want to think what it might be. But he needed to let Harry know that he wasn't alone anymore. And let himself know that Harry was safe, now.  
He laid his hand on Harry's bare shoulder but backed off when Harry actually whimpered and tried to move away. That pretty much confirmed Louis' suspicions. Harry never protested a simple touch like that. And that whimper had been nothing short of terrified.  
“Shh...Harry, it's okay,” he said softly, replacing his hand. “You're safe. It's Louis.”  
The whimpering died away and Louis felt a little jump in his heart at the thought that either his voice or his name could calm an unconscious Harry down so quickly.  
Paul was the first to reach the alley, unsurprisingly. Louis figured the man was worried sick, and not just about his job. You couldn't know Harry without caring about him and the man had been at his side on an almost daily basis for months.  
Since he didn't want to stop touching Harry, Louis merely raised his other hand to show their position in the shadows when Paul called. He was glad to see that the man was carrying several blankets because he could feel Harry shivering; Jack must have told Paul about Harry's condition. Trying to be casual about hiding Harry's nudity, he helped Paul wrap the unconscious boy, wincing at the pained moans that came as they gently rolled him over.  
“If I ever find the fucker who did this...” Paul growled and Louis nodded in agreement with the unspoken threat.  
Louis was forced to back away when Paul lifted Harry into his arms and turned to leave the alley. Those horrible whimpers started again and Louis didn't think before stepping forward again. “It's okay, Harry. It's just Paul. We're going to take you home.”  
Harry calmed down and Paul's eyebrow lifted. Louis attempted an “I'm just trying to help” shrug that seemed to satisfy the man.  
“Management wants to keep this quiet so you're to meet the other boys at the radio station and act normal. They'll make an excuse for Harry.”  
Louis wanted to protest but thought better of it. How could he act normal after this? “Where are you taking him? Hospital?” Maybe he'd see if he could get the other boys to come with him there so it wasn't so suspicious.  
Paul grimaced. “No. There's a doctor waiting at the office. Hospital's got no privacy and paps are camped at his flat.”  
Now Louis felt he could reasonably argue. “He's been attacked! He needs a quiet bed, not an old sofa in a crowded office. And how will you get him inside without anyone noticing? Take him to my flat. It's secure and private.”  
Okay, from Paul's expression, he probably shouldn't have volunteered so quickly. He should have pushed for hospital, first, maybe? But the man seemed to be thinking it over. As head bodyguard and Harry's personal guard, he had a little power to go against management on this kind of thing. And he did want to quickly get Harry somewhere safer than an office building. Did it really matter where the doctor checked him?  
“Okay,” he said, finally. “They'll have to make excuses for both of you.”  
Louis felt like dancing.  
Getting Harry into the car was a simple matter of Louis climbing in first and, once the coast was clear, helping Paul lay Harry across the backseat, his head resting on Louis' thigh. Paul climbed behind the wheel and signaled Louis' bodyguard to follow in the second car.


	3. Chapter 2 - Does He Know?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Does He Know?"  
>  “The way you lie when you look at me/  
>  So keep trying but you know I see.”

Harry woke up and reacted exactly like Louis feared he would. He completely panicked, not knowing where he was. Unfortunately, at that precise moment, Paul was also carrying him into Louis' flat. As Paul dropped to his knees to keep from dropping the struggling boy in his arms, Louis looked around to make sure no one was watching the scene. It was the middle of a workday so there weren't many people still home. And, though he was trying, Harry's throat was too hoarse to really get a good scream.   
By the time Louis got back to the pair, Harry was silently laying in Paul's arms, staring off into space. Louis worried about the silence but didn't comment just yet. They needed to get Harry inside and checked out physically before they worried about his mental fitness. Maybe Harry was just processing what had happened and trying to make it easier for Paul to carry him?  
The moment the flat door closed, Harry spoke. “I need a shower.”  
Paul didn't stop on his way to what he could see was Louis' bedroom. Louis didn't protest in the slightest at the assumption. “There's a doctor on the way. You should wait for him.”  
“No.” Louis had never heard Harry's voice so firm or his eyes so hard; he stepped back and let the two argue. “I need a shower. Now.”  
“Planning to climb out the window again?”  
Harry blushed slightly at the angry words. “I am sorry. Truly. You have no idea. But I need a shower, Paul. Please.”  
Paul considered, his eyes drifting to the blood and the unknown substance in Harry's hair. “Okay. But, I swear, if you ever try that trick again, I will use handcuffs every time we're in public.” It was an old joke and usually had Harry giving him an impudent smirk and making a comment.   
Paul frowned slightly when neither of those things happened this time. The man hesitated to set Harry on his feet just yet. He knew he needed to ask but he didn't want to make it any harder for the young man. “Do you remember? What happened? Who...did this?”  
“No.” The speed of the reply implied differently. “I hit my head. Don't remember anything.”  
“Okay.” Paul let it go for now and put Harry down at the bathroom door. Trying one more time to get Harry at least smiling, he check the window though it was much too small for Harry to fit through; it worked slightly when the corners of Harry's mouth twitched upward. “The doctor should be here soon but take as long as you need.”  
“Yeah.” Harry was already shuffling forward in his blanket cocoon and pushed the door closed without another comment.  
Paul turned and Louis quickly tried to school his face away from the devastated look he knew must have been there. He really didn't like the speculative look the man was giving him. It was one thing to know he had feelings for Harry; it was completely different for someone else to know as well, especially someone close to Harry.  
“I'll just get him some clothes,” he said, turning toward his bedroom.   
Wondering why Paul didn't seem upset, if he even knew anything, Louis kicked the dirty clothes strewn across his floor into a pile in the corner. When there was a reasonably clear path to the bed, he turned to his wardrobe and pulled out a pair of sleep pants and a hoodie for Harry. Taking a deep breath before leaving his room, he acted casual as he headed toward the bathroom and knocked, wondering if Harry had locked the door. The shower wasn't running yet, so he didn't want to just walk in.  
“Harry? I've got clothes for you.” He really hoped his voice didn't really sound that soft and caring.  
Sure enough, the lock turned and Harry's hand appeared to take the clothes. It was the only part of his body that would be seen and Louis knew that was unusual; Harry was never body-conscious. Though, if the bruises on just that arm were any indication, Louis wasn't sure he could handle seeing more. Once the door was closed and locked again, Louis sat in the chair across from the sofa where Paul sat.  
Within three minutes under Paul's stare, Louis was fidgeting. “Um, yeah. You want some tea?” He didn't wait for confirmation before he was up and headed for the kitchen. He could have sworn he heard Paul's low laugh following him.

Harry double and triple checked the lock on the door before slowly letting the blankets fall away from him. He didn't even glance down as he turned toward the full-length mirror and, taking a deep breath, looked at himself. With each bruise he gently prodded, he could see the fist or feet coming at him and he felt the panic rising until he forced himself to take several deep breaths. He was safe, now. They couldn't hurt him anymore.   
Leader's face appeared in the mirror as he looked closer at the long scrapes down one of his cheeks. A matted clump of hair was stuck to his ear and he grimaced as he peeled it away. As much as he wished he could, he couldn't convince himself that it was just egg and blood. Harry turned around to see his back and felt a sob start to build up in his chest. There were more and larger bruises but the slashes of dried blood on his ass and thighs took all of the attention away from them.  
A knock on the door made Harry jump and scramble for the blankets before he remembered the locks. “Harry?” Oh, it was just Louis. “I've got clothes for you.”  
Harry stared at the door for a second, wishing he could ignore Louis but knowing that it was a bad idea. Not only did Louis sound genuinely worried but, if he didn't answer, Paul would probably attempt to knock down the door to make sure everything was okay. Hiding behind the door, he unlocked and opened it, shoving his hand out and taking the clothes offered. He couldn't stand it if anyone saw him like this and knew what had happened to him.  
The door was closed and he was one foot into the shower stall when he froze. He'd been naked when they found him; when Louis found him, if the fuzzy memories were correct. They'd wrapped him in blankets, so they had to have seen the blood.  
They knew. There was no way they couldn't.  
The sob couldn't be suppressed any longer and he rushed to get the shower running to hide the noise. God, what could they be thinking now? What did they think of him now? He was such a weakling! How could he have let this happen to himself? He stood under the shower head and watched as his tears mixed with the pinkish brown water running off him and down the drain.  
His hands fisted in his wet curls and he felt a resurgence of the desperate need to get clean that he'd felt when they first got to the flat. Grabbing Louis' shampoo, he started with his hair, wishing there wasn't so much of it to get clean. It took several hard scrubbings before he could make himself believe that there wasn't a trace of anything else still there, though it felt as if it had been soaked into his scalp. That task done, he grabbed the bar of soap and attacked his body, ignoring the washcloth that he knew would feel better on the sensitive bruising.  
Pain kept him from touching that part of him that most desperately needed cleaning, but Harry knew not even a full bar of soap would help there; not inside.  
By the time the bar of soap was no more than a sliver in his palm, every piece of skin that wasn't bruised was bright red from losing a few layers of skin under the scalding water, but he felt moderately cleaner and better than he had before. Knowing that there was a doctor waiting outside to see him, Harry didn't want to leave the shower but made himself turn off the water. It would keep Paul from thinking he was drowning himself.  
His body protested loudly as he dried off and pulled on the clothes Louis had given him. Every movement hurt as he stretched bruised muscles and reopened cuts. Every step caused a sharp pain to shoot up his spine.  
Unlocking the door, he took a deep breath, pulled the hood up to shade his face, and walked out. He stopped short when he saw several more people than he expected and shoved his hands into the pocket of the hoodie.  
Everyone turned and stared but said nothing until Harry felt his face flame with shame. He started toward the chair Louis was sitting in as the other boy looked the least angry and it was farthest from management, who were all glaring at him. He was wondering if the pain would be too much if he sat down when he noticed Louis subtly shifting away from him and his heart dropped. That confirmed it; the other boy knew what had happened and didn't even want to be near him. Louis was very tactile and had never not touched him if he was close, just a small brush even, and Harry was surprised to find that he was going to miss it. It would be too obvious if he changed course though, so he started to sit on the arm of the chair.   
The man he assumed was the doctor spoke up. “No, I'd like to look at you before you settle in and start to stiffen up. Let's go into the bedroom.”  
Harry sighed and followed him. He was not looking forward to this. Could he hide it? Just as he was through the door, he heard “Well, he doesn't look so bad. We won't have...”  
The doctor closed the door and blocked out the rest. “Can you tell me what happened?”  
Harry slowly sat down on the bed, smiling when he saw the pile of clothes shoved into a corner; that was so Louis. He winced at a sudden sharp pain and shifted, trying to get comfortable. “Don't really remember. Got attacked.”  
“Yes, that's what your bodyguard said. What do you remember?”  
“Um...” What to say without giving anything away? Would the doctor report everything to management?   
Almost as if he'd read Harry's mind, the man said, “You don't have to be embarrassed. I'm sure I've heard everything you could say. And everything you say will stay between just us two. I promise.”  
Harry hadn't even made a conscious decision before his mouth opened. “It was these four guys. I don't know who they are. They showed up at the party and started throwing insults and eggs at me. I got away and started to call Paul to get picked up when they found me again. They were throwing rocks this time. I tried to get away through an alley, but it was blocked and they followed me. They attacked me.”  
“With their fists? Or more rocks?”  
“Both. And their feet. And...” No, he wouldn't talk about that. “Yeah.”   
From the look on his face, it was obvious the doctor knew what he was leaving out but, to Harry's relief, he didn't pursue it. “Okay. Let me take a look at your injuries. I doubt there's anything serious since you're up and moving, but I want to be sure. Take off the hoodie, please.”  
Harry did as he was told and suffered through the poking and prodding, praying that the doctor believed him when he said there were no bad bruises below the waist so he didn't have to take off his pants. By the time the doctor was satisfied and told Harry to lie down, Harry was nearly ready to weep in gratitude. His body was screaming in agony as the adrenaline and shock were wearing off. He just wanted to lay down and stay horizontal for a few weeks. He could barely nod when the doctor told him he'd be right back with pain medication.

Louis was wondering how long he could drag out making a cup of tea so he didn't have to face Paul when he heard a knock on his front door. Accepting the interruption, he stared in shock when, instead of a doctor like he expected, several members of management filed into his flat. There was one man he didn't recognize in the group who Louis assumed was the doctor since he was carrying a bag.   
“Yes, of course you may come in,” he said to the empty hallway. “Can I get you a nice cup of tea? Or cookies?”  
“Come sit down, Louis. We need to talk.”  
“Uh, oh. You're not breaking up with me, are you, sweetheart?”  
Caruthers completely ignored the sass. “As you decided – on your own – not to arrive at the radio station this morning as planned, we were forced to cover for you. As such, you have come down with a stomach bug and have been put on bed rest.” Louis groaned loudly and clutched at his stomach. “Yes, quite. We will not give a reason for Harry's absence until we know the results of this attack.”  
“The results. You mean how badly Harry was hurt.”  
“Obviously. It wouldn't do to announce that he would be fine tomorrow if he has multiple unexplained bruises.”  
“Why not just say he – and Paul – were attacked after leaving the party last night? It would explain any unfortunate bruises.” Everyone except Paul and the doctor looked at him like he was crazy to even think about telling the mostly-truth like that. Paul had that steely look that kept most fan-girls at a distance and the doctor was looking vaguely horrified at the conversation; he was obviously not used to the “lies of the rich and famous”.  
After that, Louis just ignored the group quietly discussing different scenarios for the media and tried to decide if he should act differently around Harry now. Would Harry shy away from the casual touches Louis found he craved? He hadn't demanded for Paul to stop touching him, but maybe that was just because of whatever pain he was in?  
Louis was the first to notice the bathroom door open and carefully blanked his face as he examined Harry with his eyes. He knew it was completely inappropriate but he thought the younger boy looked adorable standing there back lit by the bathroom light, practically shuffling his feet in embarrassment.  
The silence stretched and Harry started to move in obviously careful steps. Louis' breath hitched when he realized that Harry was headed straight for him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a smirk on Paul's face, but ignored it in favor of watching Harry; he didn't like the subtle limp he was seeing. Realizing that Harry was planning to perch on the arm of his chair, he eased to the other side to give him room.  
And to resist the temptation to pull him into his lap.   
That wouldn't be good in front of management. Though, maybe...  
The doctor knocked him out of his daydream when he directed Harry into the bedroom. And the happy thoughts disappeared entirely when Caruthers spoke.  
“Well, he doesn't look so bad.” The doctor's look of surprised disgust was echoed by both Paul and Louis and ignored by everyone else. “We won't have to do as much damage control as we were led to believe.” He glared at Paul in accusation. “Perhaps a small case of food poisoning from the ill-advised party last night. He's staying a few days at a lush, private facility to recover before the tour, which won't be a lie. Though,” he glance around and nearly sneered. “lush might not be the correct term. By then, make-up should be able to hide that facial bruising and he can be seen in public again.”  
During the whole speech, Louis had been staring incredulously at the man's gall. Standing up, he put one fist on his cocked hip and, pitching his voice to sound nasally and posh, said, “As proprietor of this not-lush facility, it is my recommendation that we wait for the doctor's word on the patient before scheduling the next dog-and-pony show.” Giving a small curtsy to Paul, who barely managed to cover a snort, Louis did a cat-walk strut into his kitchen.  
Deciding that he needed to do something to keep from worrying about what was happening in his bedroom, he started rummaging through his pantry. There wasn't a lot, he knew, since he couldn't cook more than cereal. But he frowned at the meager offerings, thinking that Harry would probably want something warm and easy to eat after the doctor finished his exam.  
Spying a can of soup all the way in the back, he grabbed it, thinking it was perfect, but one glance at the label showed it was way past expiration; he didn't think soup could expire. Turning to see if there was anything in the icebox, he stopped when he saw Paul standing in the doorway.  
“Need something?”  
“I'm being sent to pack Harry some clothes. Unless you have enough of his here?”  
Louis fought hard to keep from blushing at the insinuation; had he given Harry his own clothes to wear without realizing it? Giving Paul his best “make something of it” look, he said, “We all share. I've merely forgotten to return them. I have a few of Liam's shirts, too, if you'd like to give them back to him.”  
“Mmhmm. Since he – and I – will be here for a few days, is there anything else?” He looked pointedly at the soup can in Louis' hand.  
“Food. Easy food. Unless you can cook.”  
Paul laughed. “I'll take care of it.” He turned to head for the door but turned back like he'd forgotten something. “Is there anything special of Harry's I should be sure to bring back?”  
Back looking for something to make, Louis answered without thinking. “That dark blue cashmere sweater he wore to the last shoot. It's warm but light and baggy enough that it shouldn't hurt to wear.” He froze when he realized how that sounded and turned to see yet another smirk on Paul's face before the man left. Mentally kicking himself, he grabbed a bag of crisps, poured a glass of tea, and decided to be very careful around Paul from now on; the man was much to observant to Louis' peace of mind.  
Louis was wondering what embarrassing story Caruthers would give to the media about him as punishment for chucking the empty crisps wrapper at his head when his bedroom door opened and he was distracted. The doctor had to clear his throat – loudly, twice – to get the others' attention.   
“You'll be happy to know that there are no life-threatening or serious injuries,” Louis noticed that the doctor was looking at only him with these words. “There are several very deep bruises on Harry's torso, however, that will cause him pain for some time. The head injury looks worse than it truly is and the only concern there is infection, though I doubt that will occur; it does not require stitches. I will give him pain medication and will also leave a supply for the next several days should he need it. Over all, I would say that, after three or four days of strict bed rest, he should be back on his feet with little difficulty.” He seemed to hesitate. “I also recommend having him speak to a therapist. Attacks like this can cause mental trauma that I am not qualified to diagnose.”  
“The tour begins in seven days. Will he be fully recovered by then?” Caruthers demanded.  
The doctor raised an eyebrow. “I would say the worst of the bruises will take two weeks minimum to subside. Again, I can't speak to his mental state.”  
Caruthers waved that aside and turned to the rest of his group. “We should get the story out as soon as possible. And reassure the fans that the tour will begin on schedule with all of the boys.” With Caruthers at the head, they all snaked out of the flat without a word.  
The doctor looked at Louis. “They are your...colleagues?”  
Louis snorted. “In a manner of speaking.” They were only the ones who were supposed to worry about the band's well-being.  
Unable to say anything to that, the doctor pushed it aside. “As I said, here is a supply of medication for Harry. It should last several days as it is strong enough that one pill will last for six hours. If he needs more, I will have to examine him again as that would mean I missed something. I will give him his first dose now along with my diagnosis. Are you to be the primary caregiver?”  
“Yeah.” The thought almost made Louis smile but he suppressed it. “Well, me and Paul, Harry's bodyguard. Why?”  
“In my experience, young men Harry's age do not like bed rest. But you must be strict about it for at least three days. I suspect he has a small tear in his ankle, but there is no swelling to truly indicate an injury. Any movement may cause that to get worse. Also, I will stress once more getting Harry to talk about the attack. You were there when he was found?”  
“Yeah, I found him.”  
The doctor nodded. “Then you may be aware of what...Paul?” he waited for a nod of confirmation, “believes truly happened.” Another nod. “I probably shouldn't be telling you but, as the men who hired me are obviously unconcerned, I will consider you next of kin. Harry was extremely hesitant to undress or allow me to examine him below his waist.”  
There was no reason for the doctor to explain. Louis allowed himself to smile a little. “Don't worry, doc. If there's one thing I know how to do, it's getting Harry to talk.”  
“Very well.”  
Five minutes later, the flat door closed and Louis realized that he was alone with Harry.


	4. Chapter 3 - Little Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is longer than the others because 'little things' can't just be piled on.
> 
> "Little Things"  
> “...these little things/  
> ….it's you they add up to.”  
> “And all those conversations/  
> Are the secrets that I keep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know I'm making Caruthers (the PR guy) into a real ass but it's fun, gives Louis someone to sass to, and I really don't care. I'm well aware that the real band's management is nothing like this...maybe.

Louis stood in the middle of his flat for several minutes, debating what he should do. He started for the bedroom door to check on Harry, but stopped when he remembered that the doctor had been in there not ten minutes before, so Harry's condition probably hadn't changed. He started for the kitchen to make Harry some tea but, if the doctor was right about the amount of pain the younger boy was in, he wouldn't be able to sit up and drink it; he smiled at the thought of cradling Harry in his arms to help him, but knew Harry would never allow that. He started for the bathroom to clean up but one look at the bloody blankets piled on the floor proved that it was too soon for him to see the evidence of the attack again. By then, five more minutes had passed and he thought maybe he should check on Harry...   
So he circled the sofa a few times before calling himself all sorts of names and sat down to stare at the bedroom door.  
Eventually, he decided that enough time had passed for the pain medication to have kicked in so taking Harry tea might not just be an excuse to go in. And he really wanted to see for himself that Harry was resting.  
It didn't take long before Louis was knocking on the bedroom door. “Harry? It's Louis. Can I come in?”  
“Yeah, sure.”  
Louis' smile dropped when he walked in and saw Harry sitting on the edge of the bed. “What are you doing? Didn't the doctor put you on bed rest?”  
“Yeah, but I'm thirsty.”  
“Tada!” Louis put the cup of tea on the bedside table. “Wish granted. Get back in bed.”  
“Seriously?” Harry almost laughed and Louis felt hope. “You're taking care of me?”  
“Correct. I've been designated your nurse since you're in my bed. Paul's off buying me one of those sexy nurse outfits right now. Thought you might want something pretty to look at.” Louis posed   
and fluttered his eyelashes. And got a chuckle.  
“Thanks.” Harry sat back against a pillow Louis settled against the wall. “I've really gotta stay here a few days?”  
“Yep. Doc says you might have a small injury in your foot that he doesn't want to get worse.”  
“I heard. This sucks.” Harry winced and shifted, sliding down until he laid on his back.  
Louis' face went sober. “I know. I'm sorry.”  
“Yeah, well, my own fault.”  
Louis' eyes widened when he heard the anger in Harry's voice; he knew it was directed in the completely wrong direction. “Hey, no it's not. It's the fault of those fuckers who did this. Understand?”  
Harry just turned his back and Louis knew he'd be saying those words often before Harry believed them. Not pushing the issue, he headed out of the bedroom.  
“Lou?” Harry's voice stopped him just outside of the door and Louis looked over his shoulder. “Sorry I'm taking your bed.”  
“Not a problem. My sofa's practically a bed itself. You should know since you picked it out.” The boys shared a small smile remembering when all five friends had gone sofa shopping together since they inevitable slept over at each others' flats and wanted to be comfortable. “Paul gets the floor.”  
Louis walked away to Harry's laughter.

Paul took longer to return than Louis expected, but one look at the bags the man carried had Louis smiling gratefully. Several sacks from local restaurants were next to the overnight bag he set on the sofa.  
“How's Harry?” the was first thing out of the big man's mouth. “Did the doctor say anything?”  
Louis filled him in as he filled his icebox with the take-out containers. “Caruthers couldn't leave fast enough.”  
“I know. The paps already had the notification when I left Harry's flat. They were trying to figure out which hospital to look at. Does Harry know the story, yet?”  
“I didn't tell him.”  
Paul nodded and left Louis to finish. Louis knew he was going to use the PR story as an excuse to question Harry on how he was feeling and left him to it. Within minutes, he could hear the two laughing from the bedroom and he smiled.

Harry felt laughter bubble up in his chest as Pail told him the story given to the media. The feeling surprised him since he figured he wouldn't feel truly happy for a while. But, here, with just Louis and Paul, he actually felt close to normal.  
“Press Release is off his game,” he grinned cheekily when Paul snorted at Caruthers' nick-name. “Two stomach problems in one day. Not long ago, Louis would have jetted off to a private island for the day and I'd be secluded with the girl-of-the-week. Or the other way around.” He sat back and yawned; the meds weren't as non-drowsy as he thought. “Remember the flu last autumn? He really kept the paps jumping.”  
“I do. Are you going to make him scramble again by taking twice as long to recover as the doctors thought?”  
Harry knew what Paul was asking. Was he truly only bruised or was he lying to the doctor. The problem was, he wasn't sure of that himself. “You know how much I love to piss him off, but the tour's starting, remember? I kinda have to be there for that.” It was an answer that wasn't truly an answer but would reassure the man he considered a good friend.  
Paul agreed and stood up. “Go to sleep. We'll talk more when you wake up. And if you step one foot out of that bed, I will tie you to it, understood?”  
Harry sighed as he carefully rolled onto his side and pulled the duvet over his shoulders. He had to admit that Louis had a very comfortable bed. It smelled good, too.

Hours later, Harry woke and took a moment to remember why he was in a bed not his own. Smelling something good, he sat up...and groaned. The pain medication was wearing off.   
He started to get off out of bed, but remembered Paul's threat and hesitated, knowing that the man was serious. His stomach growled, but he didn't want to just yell for Paul or Louis; he hated being helpless. Just as he was about to swallow his pride, he noticed an addition to the bedside table.   
A large plastic button and a sign that said “Push me!”  
So he did.  
“Lou-EEE!” a girl's voice screeched.  
He was still staring in shock when Louis appeared in the doorway. “Good. It works.”  
Harry could hear Paul laughing in the next room. “What the hell?”  
Louis just shrugged. “The newest 1D gimmick. To keep all the fans from losing their voices before the tour. They can just push the button. There's one for each of us.”  
Harry blinked. “Seriously?” Because he honestly wouldn't put it past their management to do it. But Louis laughed.  
“No. It's just a novelty toy I found in a shop earlier. You can record anything on it. I found the scream on YouTube. Figured it was better than having you yelling all the time when you need something.”  
“Paul's going to go mental hearing that.”  
“Nah, he's just jealous I couldn't find anyone screaming his name. Now, did you need something or did you just push the button?”  
Harry had to think back. “Oh, yeah. What's that smell?”  
“Pea soup. Would you like some? It's pretty good.”  
He hesitated. He'd tried some of Louis' cooking before and, unless he was supervised heavily, it never turned out well. “Did you make it?”  
“Only if you count reheating.” Louis smiled like he knew what Harry was thinking and didn't take offense. “Paul picked it up.”  
“Then yeah. I'm starving.”  
“Coming right up. Don't move.”  
Five minutes later, Harry was a little confused. Louis had come in with a small lap-tray loaded with soup, bread, and tea, along with a glass of water and a pain pill. The thing was, Harry had never seen the tray before. And, as the only boy who actually liked to cook, he was intimately familiar with the contents of all of the other boys' kitchens.   
Louis was cheerfully joking about becoming a nurse as he arranged the tray so Harry wouldn't accidentally knock anything when Harry saw the plastic sales tag still attached to one of the legs.  
So it was new. And Louis had mentioned shopping when they talked about the screaming button. Had Louis gone just to get things to help him? Harry wondered, looking at the older boy curiously. Had he bought anything else?

“Lou-EEE!”  
Paul's head hit the back of the sofa. “I hate you.”  
Louis shrugged. “You get used to it, eventually.” After all, he should know. “Come on. He probably wants out of bed.”  
The button screamed again just as they reached the door. And the moment Harry saw them, he announced, “I'm getting up!”  
Louis gave Paul an “I told you so” look and picked up the tray of dishes from Harry's dinner to take to the kitchen. Paul considered. If Harry learned the hard way that he shouldn't move, it would probably save them all a lot of time arguing. So he nodded. “Okay. Try walking.”  
Harry looked smug as he sat on the edge of the bed. Standing, he blanched and gasped at the pain in his foot. “Fuck!”  
Paul was immediately there to hold him up. “Now, will you follow orders?”  
“Yeah. Shit.” Harry grimaced as Paul lifted him easily. “I feel like a baby.”  
“But you're such a cute little tyke,” Louis spoke from the doorway. “Come on. We're watching telly and you can have the remote.”  
“Yay!”  
Harry felt awkward sitting on the sofa where Paul set him as the other men attended him. He knew Louis tended to be a little bit of a mother-hen with those he cared about, so that didn't surprise him, only made him smile. Paul, on the other hand, always conveniently disappeared every time Harry was ill.   
There was no question in Harry's mind that they were trying to be careful around him and it was starting to get on his nerves. He just wanted to forget what happened and them acting so differently made that difficult.  
Paul silently spread an afghan over his legs before sitting in the chair and focusing on the telly. Harry was just starting to wonder where Louis was going to sit when the older boy appeared with a pillow Harry knew was new. Louis carefully lifted Harry's legs, sat, and then propped the legs on the pillow across his lap. Harry just watched as he casually flipped up the afghan and rolled up Harry's pant leg to look at his injured ankle. And both boys hissed when they saw the swelling.  
“The doctor said he wasn't sure if there was a tear, but there must be. Is it painful?” Louis asked, gently turning the foot to look at all angles before comparing it to Harry's other foot.  
“Not so much the meds can't beat it. I didn't even notice it this morning.” Harry admitted.  
“It was probably just masked by all the other pain. From your bruises,” Louis was quick to add but Harry saw the knowledge in his eyes.  
“Are you going to watch the telly or just stare at Louis?” Paul demanded.  
Harry blushed and quickly looked away. He'd completely forgotten Paul was there.  
When Harry was distracted, Louis pulled out an old ACE bandage from his football days and expertly wrapped the swollen flesh, wincing every time Harry hissed in pain. Finally, he was done and he re-situated the afghan and rested his hand lightly on Harry's leg as he started watching the program.

Louis thought he'd dozed off and was dreaming when he heard the first whimpers. It took several moments before he realized that he also heard heavy breathing that was almost snoring and the canned laughter of a late-night comedy. He automatically turned to check on Harry and knew the other boy was having a nightmare.  
His hands fisted tightly in the afghan, Harry's whole body seemed to twitch like he was experiencing every blow again.  
Louis started to reach over to wake him up, but hesitated. Maybe he should just ignore it? Maybe this was part of the healing process? Harry would hate to know that anyone knew he was having nightmares. He'd just convinced himself to close his eyes and ignore it when the noises coming from Harry changed.  
“No. Please, stop!” It was a barely audible whisper but Louis felt it through his whole being.   
When the tears started leaking from beneath Harry's lashes, Louis didn't think anymore. He reached over and shook Harry's shoulder.  
The scream that followed had Paul on his feet from a dead sleep. Louis had to admire the fact that he looked completely awake so quickly. Looking back at Harry, he saw that the boy had woken himself up as well. One of Harry's arms was draped over his eyes as the other hand covered his mouth, trying to muffle his ragged breathing.  
“Harry?” He laid his hand on Harry's shin.  
“Don't!” The word snapped out and Louis snatched his hand back. “Don't fucking touch me.”  
“Okay.” Deciding that asking 'Are you okay?' would be stupid, Louis decided not to make a big spectacle of things. “I think it's time for us all to go to bed properly. Do you want to stay here on the couch or can Paul carry you into the bedroom?” Louis knew that Harry's answer to the simple question would affect how things went until Harry could move on his own again and he dreaded the answer.  
Harry hesitated. He really didn't want anyone touching him, now or ever. But there was no way he'd be able to sleep again and having Paul in the chair next to him meant he would have to pretend. And not do what he really wanted to do, which was sob like a baby. “Bedroom.” He kept his body stiff and his face hidden as Paul scooped him into his arms and carried him into the bedroom.   
Louis mentally sighed and didn't immediately follow Paul. If Harry could stand to be touched, however reluctantly, so soon after a nightmare, that must be a good sign. Taking a deep breath to calm himself because, though it had only lasted maybe three minutes, the entire episode had stirred up some painful emotions in him, he picked up the pillow and headed into the bedroom.   
Seeing Harry curled on his side facing away from the door and Paul, Louis sighed. “You should elevate your foot to bring the swelling down.” It wasn't what he really wanted to say, but he couldn't exactly admit that he wanted to crawl into the bed and cuddle with the younger boy until he felt better.   
“Yeah. Okay.” But Harry didn't move.  
Louis silently asked Paul to leave the room. Maybe he could fulfill his promise to the doctor and get Harry to talk now. “Harry?”  
“What?” The other boy's voice was rough and Louis wondered if he was trying not to cry.  
“If you want to talk-”  
“Piss off.”  
Louis had honestly expected that. “Okay, but I'm here if you want-”  
“I said piss off! Christ, leave me the fuck alone! I don't want to talk!” But it got Harry to look at him and Louis wasn't surprised to see that his face was drenched with tears before Harry flopped back down.  
Louis stayed silent but stood there next to the bed for several minutes, waiting to see if Harry would say anything more. Finally, he decided to leave it alone. “See you in the morning, Harry.” It was not going to be a good night, so that wish seemed inappropriate.  
“Lou?”   
Louis was almost at the door, but turned and saw Harry peeking at him over his shoulder through his fringe. “Yes?”  
Harry hesitated and then turned back toward the wall. “Nothing.”

A loud knocking woke Louis and he rolled over in bed to look at the clock. And promptly fell off the sofa. He heard laughter and raised his head just enough to see Paul standing in the doorway of the kitchen. The man looked far too awake for whatever time it was. Especially after the night they'd had.  
“Tea.” Louis couldn't function without it.  
“Already steeping.” The man was also much too cheerful.  
Not bothering to get off the floor, Louis started to snuggle back under the blanket and go back to sleep. There was another knock and he groaned, slowly getting to his feet.  
Wrenching the door open, he glared at Caruthers. “What?”  
Caruthers brushed past him. “Good morning, Louis. Sleep well?” Damn it, another cheerful person.  
“Wha' time's it?”  
“Half eight.”  
Louis groaned. He'd been awake until dawn listening to the miserable boy in the bedroom tossing and turning. “Yeah, slept great,” he said dryly. For an hour.  
“Good.” Caruthers either didn't hear the exhaustion in his voice or ignored it. “You should start getting ready. You're meeting Eleanor in an hour for a few hours of shopping, followed by lunch and a matinee.”  
Dead on his feet, Louis blinked. “What?”  
Caruthers repeated himself, speaking slowly like Louis was a moron.   
“But I'm supposed to be taking care of Harry.” Louis knew it was a thin excuse because Harry wasn't exactly helpless, but he really did not want to have to deal with that girl when he was so tired.  
“I'm sure Paul can handle him for a few hours. So go take a shower. You don't want to be late meeting your girlfriend. And remember to smile and kiss for the cameras.” With that bit of advice, Caruthers turned to Paul and asked where Harry was, like he'd be off partying instead of in bed after the previous day.  
So the PR manager didn't hear Louis' muttered “Fucker,” as the boy headed for the bathroom.

Harry was awake when Paul came into the bedroom but pretended otherwise. He'd never gone back to sleep. After Louis left, he'd waited until he was sure the other two had gone back to sleep before shifting. He tried laying on his back with his foot propped up, but that put painful pressure on his bruises, so he turned onto his stomach. That lasted less than a minute; having his face pressed against the pillow reminded him too much of being pinned against the brick wall and pavement. So he'd been forced to lay on his side, which made propping his foot up awkward, and he'd never been able to sleep on his side so he changed sides what seemed like every five minutes.  
It had not been a good night.  
Now, he felt the heat from Paul's hand at his bicep, but no contact was made before it disappeared. Instead, Paul just spoke, his voice carefully casual, which Harry didn't understand.   
“Harry, you awake?”  
Curious why Paul was bothering him, Harry decided no to pretend anymore. And he needed another pain pill. There was no reason to avoid the man, anyway. “Yes. What?” Okay, maybe he was still embarrassed about the nightmare.  
“Caruthers is here. He wants to talk to you.”  
Harry sighed. So the voices he'd heard before weren't just Louis and Paul like he thought. “Great. Okay. Fine.” He carefully sat up, but pushed Paul's hands away when the man moved to lift him; he would not be carried in front of Caruthers. Instead, he used Paul as a crutch, bit his lip against the pain, and hopped out of the bedroom.  
He was barely through the door before “Good Lord, what have you done, now?” from Caruthers made him pause.  
Harry and Paul gave the other man identical 'Are you kidding me?' looks before continuing to the sofa, Harry balancing on one foot when Paul bent to move the blanket Louis had left on the floor.  
It was only after he was settled and accepted the pill from Paul that Harry answered the increasingly impatient Caruthers. “Didn't the doctor tell you? There's a small tear in the tendon of my ankle. I'm not to walk for a few days.” He knew fully well from Louis that Caruthers didn't know, but he wanted to know how the man would react. Would he lie?  
“Of course. I'd merely forgotten and it was such a shock seeing you like that. How do you feel?”  
Harry nodded to himself as his assumption was proven correct and had to admit that the man lied very well. And then he thought about how to answer. It was honestly the first time anyone other than the doctor had asked, but it seemed insincere coming from Caruthers, like he was only trying to say what was expected instead of actually caring. So Harry only answered as basically as possible. “The pain meds are helping and the swelling's gone down a bit on my ankle.” He thought. A little. Maybe.  
But Caruthers was nodding and humming in acceptance like Harry was telling his life story. Over the man's shoulder, Harry saw Paul rolling his eyes and felt his lips twitch in amusement. He was about to ask if there was anything else Caruthers wanted to talk about when he noticed the bathroom door open and Louis peered out, his hair dripping wet.  
When Louis saw Harry looking, he put his finger to his lips and Harry gave a tiny nod in acknowledgment, thinking that Louis just wanted to sneak by without Caruthers noticing.  
So he let out a startled laugh when Louis darted toward the bedroom naked, leaving a trail of water behind him.  
Paul and Caruthers turned just in time to see Louis' arse disappearing around the corner.  
“Louis Tomlinson!” Caruthers shrieked like an old woman and Harry just about toppled over on the sofa in laughter.  
“What? I had no towel and I forgot pants!” Louis yelled back, his voice full of amusement. “Not like you haven't seen it before.”  
So Caruthers stood just outside of the bedroom door, pointedly not looking in as he berated Louis on basic manners and how he'd better not act like that on tour as they would always be surrounded by their crew and it was completely unprofessional. Harry wondered idly if Caruthers realized he was telling Louis how to act in his own private home, but then remembered Caruthers was always trying to correct their behavior no matter where they were, even on stage.  
Louis finally emerged wearing jeans and a plain black t-shirt. He was also carrying a denim jacket and had Harry wondering if he was going somewhere. The older band member had an amused smirk on his face and was completely ignoring Caruthers' rant, just like always.  
Harry waited until Louis was sitting on the sofa next to him before muttering, “Sorry.”  
“No problem,” was the whispered response accompanied by a grin, which Harry returned.  
But all amusement left to make room for enraged silence when Caruthers turned his attention back to Harry and forgot that he was supposed to pretend to be pleasant and understanding. “Well, I hope you've learned your lesson after yesterday.”  
Louis didn't even try to disguise the horror in his voice as he and Harry gaped. “What did you just say?” Did he really just say that?  
Caruthers pulled himself up to his full height and looked down his nose at the boys. “I have told you time and again not to go about unaccompanied. I thought you were intelligent enough to know the risks without me spelling them out for you, but obviously not. You are not normal boys anymore. No sneaking out. No excessive partying. No relationships that have not been vetted and approved.” Harry's jaw slowly dropped as Caruthers actually counted them off on his fingers. “Everything you do now has consequences, good and bad, as you just found out. If you had just stayed with Paul, if he had kept a closer eye on you,” he sent a scathing glance over at the man, “we would not now be having to scramble to cover for your injuries and possibly having to cancel or reschedule the first stops on the tour!” By the end of his rant, Caruthers was breathing heavily and ended with throwing his hands into the air.  
Harry felt sick. He knew – knew – that Caruthers didn't really know what had happened and probably, maybe, might not be saying these things if he did, but his head was being drowned out by his quickly beating heart. “So, what? This is all my fault?” His voice was husky with tears and he quickly cleared his throat.  
“Not all, obviously, but yes. If you hadn't–”  
“Out.”  
The word snapped out of Louis' mouth so hard everybody turned and stared. Well, everybody except Harry, who was staring wide-eyed at the sofa, trying to hold back the tears.  
“Excuse me?” Caruthers' voice had an astonished tinge to it, like he didn't think Louis was talking to him, even though the slight boy's bright blue eyes burned into him.  
“Get the fuck out! Now!” Louis was on his feet, pointing imperiously. “You will not talk like that in my home!”  
Now Caruthers was fully insulted. “As long as we are paying–”  
Louis and Paul once again gaped at the gall of the man before Louis cocked his hip sassily. “Check your files, pal. This is mine, bought and paid for. You have no say! Now, get. The. Fuck. Out!” By the end, he was at the door, holding it open.  
Caruthers' jaw dropped but he pulled himself together with a sniff. “Well.” He turned at the door. “You will not miss this morning's outing.” It wasn't a question, but an order and Louis just slammed the door in his face.  
Louis looked back at the sofa and saw Paul hovering uncertainly over Harry, who seemed to have folded in on himself. The older boy had to restrain himself from rushing over and gathering him in his arms and shielding him from everything and everyone who could possibly hurt the sweet boy. Instead, he knelt in front of Harry and, seeing those broad shoulders shaking, hoped no one heard his heart breaking.  
“Harry.”   
There was no disguising the emotion in his voice and Harry shifted away.  
“Harry, look at me.”  
Harry closed his damp eyes. And sniffled.  
“Damn it, Harry. You know he's a twat. Look at me!”  
There was no movement for several seconds before Harry gave in, sighed, and looked at Louis out of the corner of his eye.  
Louis tried, and failed, to smile brightly. “Hey. Don't listen to a word that prick says. You never have before, so why start now? Did that–” Louis caught himself before he said something very stupid like 'Did that attack damage your brain?,' instead finishing with “doctor give you defective drugs? Is the pain affecting your mind?”  
Harry snorted softly. “No, they work.”  
“Good. Now, since you're obviously listening to the words of an ignorant prick more interested in publicity than in you, I want you to pay special attention to the words of a friend who cares very much about you, Harry Edward Styles. Are you ready?” He waited with his head cocked until Harry looked more fully at him and nodded. “What happened to you is in no way, shape, or form your fault. Yes, you ran away from Paul, but you're eighteen years old and were keeping a promise to a friend. That makes you a loyal, friendly, reckless, slightly-stupid normal teenage boy.” Louis smirked and Harry's lips quirked at the gently said insults.  
Both boys looked over in shock when Paul sat on the sofa next to Harry. And asked, “Have you ever known me to lie to you, Harry?” He quickly went on when Harry opened his mouth with a glint in his eye. “Unless you're asking about some ridiculous outfit making you look fat.”  
Harry closed his mouth and looked thoughtful for a moment. “No,” he said honestly.  
“That's right. So let me add to Louis' little speech. Anyone who knows you, really knows you, would never for a moment believe that you did anything to deserve what happened to you. No matter how much of an idiot you are.”  
More tears glittered in Harry's green eyes, but Louis smiled because Harry's face glowed with happiness.  
Louis nearly fell over when Harry suddenly threw his arms around Paul and Louis' necks. “Aw! I love you guys!” he sniffled.  
The embrace was over in less than a second but Louis' heart swelled. It was the first time Harry had initiated any sort of contact and, for just an instant, had seemed like his old, over-grown puppy self.  
A knock on the door had all three moving away from each other. Louis grimaced. He knew, just knew, that it was Jack, ready to accompany him on his 'date.' After letting the man in, he sat to pull on his shoes, sans socks because he knew Eleanor hated that habit.  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry trying to conceal his curiosity and had to stop from smiling, waiting to see how long the curly-haired teen held out.  
Louis was almost out the door and about to tell Harry where he was going when Harry actually stood up and shouted, “Where are you going?” before immediately flushing and sitting back down because of his ankle.  
Louis laughed and turned. “Easy there, Curls. Caruthers has me spending quality time with the cameras and girlfriend today. I'll be back in a few hours if I haven't been smothered.”  
“Okay, then. You may go.” Harry gave a little flip of his hand that had Louis grinning.  
“Thank you, princess.” And he was out the door before Harry could respond. He would only be ten minutes late, which was something of a disappointment, but if he didn't leave then, he never would.

Hours later, Louis was feeling his single hour of sleep as he dragged himself through the front door. And stopped short.  
The whole ride back from depositing Eleanor at her place, he'd imagined making sure Harry was okay, making Harry laugh a bit, and making a nice, cozy nest to nap in on the sofa. He had not imagined finding that sofa fully occupied by the other three members of 1D.  
“Lads!” He forced himself to smile through his exhaustion. “Long time, no see.”  
Casually leaving his single bag out of sight behind the sofa, he dropped to the floor in front of the chair where Harry sat and rested his head tiredly against the younger boy's knee. He hadn't thought about it at all as it was normal behavior since, when all five boys were together, there was always one without a proper seat. But now...He tilted his head back to see Harry's reaction and was slightly surprised to receive a pat on the shoulder and an accepting smile immediately.  
It all took about two seconds and Louis wasn't sure the others noticed, but he felt re-energized; Harry was getting better so quickly!  
“So...” Niall leaned forward and grinned. “How's Elounor?”  
Louis groaned at the nickname and rested his forehead on Harry's leg for a second. “Piss off, Horan.” All four laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Ha ha. Just wait until they decide that 'little horny leprechaun' act isn't right for the 'image.'”   
He paused as Niall squawked, “Act? Who said that's an act?”  
And then continued like he'd never been interrupted. “As soon as that happens, you'll be thrown to the wolves and have to smile and make nice with whoever they pick for you. Am I right, Zayn?”  
“Too right, mate.”  
There was a companionable silence for several moments before Liam sighed. “Why do we put up with it?”  
Harry and Niall immediately say “Shit loads of money,” at the same time Louis and Zayn both say “Contractual obligations.” And they all laughed because they seemed to have this same conversation every time one had a particularly bad PR moment.  
“But seriously,” Harry said, leaning forward to look at Louis' face. “How was it?”  
“It was actually okay,” Louis said honestly. “El sends her regards to all, by the way. She almost decided to come back with me, but a sale caught her eye and the thought vanished. Thank fuck.” Louis closed his eyes and laid his head back on Harry's chair as the others mutter agreements. It was so awkward when one of the girlfriends was around. “She only bought five outfits today, so the band's not bankrupted yet, then followed it up with a nice, intimate lunch surrounded by about fifty paps and then a romcom. Gotta say, the movie was amazing. You lads should go see it.”  
“We'll make a lads day of it before the tour. We've been forbidden from going to NYC for a few days like we planned,” Liam said and Louis could hear the disappointment.  
Before Louis could say any more, he felt a light slap on the top of his head and looked at Harry expectantly.  
“You left something out,” the curly-haired boy accused and Louis had to think back before raising an eyebrow in askance. “Did you buy anything?”  
Louis let out a little laugh; he should have expected that. “Maybe. Zaynie, be a dear and toss me my bag. My legs are dead.” And so was his head, almost, when the bag rocketed at him.  
Being careful not to let anyone see the contents, Louis pulled out the new beanie he'd bought. But, before he could slip it on, it was plucked from his hands.  
“Mine, now!” Harry exclaimed, pulling the beanie over his curls. And posed.  
Louis turned completely to take in the full picture and didn't know what to think. He loved those curls and never wanted to see them covered, but the thought of Harry wearing something he'd bought was a very happy one. And Harry did look good in it. Louis decided to just enjoy it as the best of both worlds. Some of Harry's curls had escaped and were brushing lightly against his cheeks.   
Louis was tempted to sit on his hands to keep from brushing them away.  
The fact that the beanie was pink only made it even better.  
Remembering the other boys, Louis moved back to his previous position. “Only until that ankle's healed, curly.”  
“Okay,” Harry chirped and Louis started to wonder.  
Harry was acting very close to his old self, not like the insecure boy he'd left that morning. Was it real? Or was Harry faking it? Unfortunately, there was no way for Louis to find out while the other boys were there.  
“Now, what were you lads gossiping about when I came in?” He put the question of Harry's behavior out of his mind, for now, and wanted to be distracted.  
“Hold on.” Niall, the closest to the chair, toed Louis' bag. “This thing ain't empty.”  
Louis hoped he was successfully suppressing his blush as he looked blandly at the Irishman. “I bought pants. Would you like to see?”  
Hooking his toe in one of the handles, Niall flung the bag at him. “Wanker.”  
“That's right. I'm a professional,” Louis smirked.  
There was another light slap as Harry giggled. It set the others off and spent a nice several minutes just laughing together.  
Eventually, Louis yawned and his tired brain realized something. “Where's Paul?”  
Residual giggles lighting his voice, Harry answered. “Management needed to consult with him about security for the tour.”  
“He left you alone?” Damn it, Louis, don't overreact, he scolded himself. Don't be suspicious.  
But, though Zayn's eyes narrowed a bit, no one reacted like it was anything but normal.  
Harry rolled his eyes. “No, Mum. He called the lads here to babysit me. Liam carried me to the loo and even helped me wee. You should give him a nice tip.”  
Louis was shocked to feel a pinch of jealousy. “Okay. Liam, here's your tip. Don't let Harry wee on you.”  
“Wow. You should get a t-shirt made up,” Liam responded dryly, throwing an arm over the back of the sofa behind Zayn. Louis thought he saw the two shift closer together but his eyes were so dry and tired he probably just imagined it.  
The boys started passing ridiculous quotes for t-shirts back and forth as Louis' eyes drifted shut on their own.

Harry was howling in laughter with the others over a random sentence Niall insisted was a famous Irish saying when he noticed that half of Louis' face was pressed against his leg; that didn't look comfortable. When Louis didn't move, Harry realized that the slighter boy was asleep, even with the rest of them being so loud. Why was Louis so tired?  
Looking at the other three, he almost wished they would leave. When they'd first showed up, he'd been so happy and completely ready to act normal. But it was an act. He'd used his ankle as an excuse to stay separated from them so they wouldn't touch him. He'd plastered a smile on his face when Niall started talking about really showing him how to party while on tour. He'd worked to keep the horror off his face when he realized that they thought he'd just gone on a bender and gotten into a fist-fight over a girl; damn that bastard Press Release, because Harry had no intention of ever telling the lads what really happened. He'd waited until his bladder was about to explode before reluctantly asking for help to the loo; he'd grimaced at Liam's touch the whole time though the others thought that it was because of the pain.  
Sure, it was nice to laugh and fool around with the lads, but he was as tired as Louis seemed to be, the meds were wearing off and it was couple hours before he could take another dose, and he really just wanted some quiet.  
Wondering if he should just be rude and tell them to leave, he didn't notice that his fingers were gently running through the feathery hair at the back of Louis' neck.  
Harry's contemplation was interrupted when Zayn suddenly stood up. “Li, Niall, I think it's time for us to head out.” He nodded to where Louis was sleeping. “Dinner?”  
The others immediately understood and agreed. As they headed for the door, Liam paused and turned. “Will you be okay, Harry?”  
“'Course. Paul'll be back soon and Louis ain't exactly dead.”  
“Okay. We'll see you later. Get better fast.”  
Harry didn't really get a chance to answer before the door closed. He sighed and laid his head on the back of the chair.

When Paul let himself into the flat an hour later, because no one answered his knock, he took one look at the chair, smiled, and nodded.  
Harry was asleep, slumped forward with a pink beanie crookedly covering his curls. One hand fell limply over the arm of the chair while the other was lightly fisted in the top of Louis' hair.  
Louis was leaning sideways against the chair, his head resting between Harry's knees while his arms gently hugged Harry's uninjured leg.  
Both boys had sweet, relaxed smiles on their faces.  
It was all the proof Paul needed.

Louis jolted awake when a wordless scream pierced the darkness. Untangling his legs from the blankets, he spared a quarter of a second to wonder when he'd gotten off the floor before darting to the bedroom, beating Paul by half-a-step. It took one look before Louis was kneeling on the bed.  
Harry was still trapped in the nightmare. Curled into a tight ball in the center of the bed with his arms clasped around his head, the sleeping boy sobbed and Louis' heart broke.  
Following his instincts, Louis pulled Harry closer, ignoring the warning noise Paul made and the whimpered pleas to stop from Harry. He carefully pried the arms down to look at Harry's face.  
“Harry. Harry, it's Louis. You're safe. I'm here. I'm here,” he said softly, gently brushing Harry's fringe from his sweaty forehead. He wanted to gather the boy in his arms, but somehow knew that it was a bad idea.  
“Louis.”  
His name was more exhaled than spoken and Louis wondered if Harry was awake. But, no.  
“Louis, make it stop. Make them stop. It hurts.”  
Harry sounded so young, in so much pain that Louis didn't think. Laying next to Harry, he wrapped his arms around the broad shoulders and brought Harry's head to rest in the crook of his neck.  
“Okay, love, I will. I will. There, see? They're gone. They're gone. You're safe. I'm here. I'm here, now. They're gone. They can't hurt you anymore.”  
“I can't fight them. Can't make them stop.”  
Louis gently shushed him, pressing his lips to curls. “I'll fight them. I'll make them stop. See? They stopped. They stopped.”  
“They stopped,” Harry echoed softly. A moment later, he seemed to sigh in his sleep and then there was silence.  
Louis didn't know what to do. In his sleep, Harry seemed quite comfortable laying in his arms, but he doubted Harry would feel the same awake. So he should get up.  
He stayed where he was.  
What if Harry had another nightmare? Was Louis being near the only deterrent?  
Rustling interrupted his internal debate and he looked to see Paul leaving the room. Louis grimaced, thinking about what the man had just seen and heard. He needed to make sure the man didn't get the wrong idea...right idea...whatever.  
Gently untangling himself from Harry, Louis eased off the bed and stood for several moments to make sure the sleeping boy didn't react. The only indication was Harry frowning slightly and curling around Louis' pillow.  
Louis left the room very reluctantly and stopped short when he saw Paul just standing there.  
And immediately went on the defensive. “He's my mate. My best mate. And he's hurt. Bad. I'll do whatever it takes to help him.” He's talking so fast he hardly understands himself. “It's not–”   
“Louis Tomlinson,” Paul interrupted calmly. “Shut up.”  
“Yes, sir,” Louis said immediately, wincing. He may have been denying too hard.  
“Do I look like management?”  
“No.” Louis was confused.   
“Do I care about Harry?”  
“Yes.” That was obvious.  
“Do I care about all of you boys? Your safety and well-being?”  
“Yeah.” Where was this going?  
“Have I ever, outside of the issue of security, cared about your personal lives?”  
Louis had to think. But, “No.” Some of the other security guys would tease the boys, but Paul always stayed separate.  
“That's right. So...shut up.” Paul sat in his chair and picked up the blanket, closing his eyes and leaving Louis standing there.  
Huh? Louis didn't know what just happened. Had Paul just said something important? Because his gut was saying he did, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was.  
Paul must have felt his confused stare because the man never opened his eyes when he said, “Sleep, Tomlinson.”  
Louis decided that would be best and lay down, pulled his own blanket to cover him and stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep.

The next morning, Harry refused to leave the bedroom. Louis didn't know if it was because he just wanted to be alone, which would be understandable, or he remembered the nightmare and was embarrassed. As Louis himself was avoiding Paul from embarrassment, he didn't try to change Harry's mind. Instead, he put on his headphones with his favorites play-list and lost himself in video games, since he didn't feel like going out, wanting to be near Harry.  
But, after two days of silence, Louis was concerned. It couldn't be good for Harry to be so isolated, so unlike himself. He was sure that, behind the closed door, nightmares had taken control and something needed to be done.  
So, when Paul was out getting food, Louis didn't knock on the door, just burst right into the room. After all, it was his bedroom.  
Harry was curled on his side, but looked up immediately so Louis was sure he'd been awake. “Go away.” The younger boy's voice was hoarse and Louis knew it was from tears.  
“Nope. Not this time.” Louis took in the deep shadows under Harry's eyes and decided to do whatever it took to make them disappear. He hopped onto the end of the bed. “I'm bored and you're in my bed.” He had to keep himself from cheering at the thought because that's what he's wanted for years. “So you're obligated to do something.”  
Harry rolled his eyes and Louis knew he was doing the right thing. “What am I supposed to do? I can't move.”  
Louis considered. “Can I see your foot?” The younger boy was covered by the blanket from his shoulders down and Louis knew not to just tug them off like he normally would.  
Harry shifted uncomfortably. “I'm in pants.”  
The older boy waved that away with a snort that he hoped sounded casual. “Seen it before, curly, remember?”  
“Yeah, but...”  
“But what?”  
Harry couldn't look Louis in the eye. “The other night.”  
“Mmhmm? What about it?” Was it right to just brush it off or should Louis get him to talk about it?  
“Did you...hold me?”  
Louis wasn't expecting that. “Were you awake?”  
“I don't know. I think a little. So you did?”  
He didn't even consider denying it. “I did. Harry, you were crying. You were hurting. I couldn't just stand there and watch. You needed someone and I was there. Wouldn't you do the same for any of us lads?”  
The embarrassment on Harry's face eased significantly. “Yeah, I guess I would. So there was nothing...else?”  
“What else did you think there was?” It was all Louis could say without either confessing everything and scaring Harry away, or lying to him and potentially driving the sensitive boy away if he found out.  
But the answer seemed to satisfy harry because he nodded slightly and pushed the blankets away.  
Sighing in relief because it felt like a critical moment had just been successfully navigated, Louis pushed it aside and focused on Harry's ankle. He was pleased to see that the swelling was almost gone. Poking and prodding and gently rotating the foot, he listened for any indication of pain from Harry and there was very little. “How's the pain?”  
“Almost gone.”  
“Good. Wanna try limping into the other room to play FIFA? I told you, I'm bored. And I've beat the computer team ten times already today. I need to beat someone real so I can brag.”  
Harry smirked a little. “You can try. But I need clothes first.”  
Louis got off the bed and grabbed the bag of clothes Paul had picked up for Harry. Handing it over, he headed out the door. “Scream when you're ready to move.”

Paul walked in and stopped, staring in wonder. When he'd left just a few hours before, both boys had been deeply isolated away from each other.   
Now, Harry was doing a strange dance, hopping on one foot in front of Louis as Louis just sat watching with his arms crossed, a tiny smile on his lips.  
“Having fun?”  
Harry spun around so quickly he lost his balance and started to tip over, but Louis' hands were already there to steady him, guiding him down onto the sofa.  
“Yes!” Harry crowed. “I just beat Lou's arse at FIFA.”  
Louis huffed and tried to keep the smile of his face. “It was an off game. And you barely managed to beat me.”  
“Still did though!” Harry continued to dance in his seat, beating his arms into the air.   
Deciding not to question how Louis managed to get the secluded boy out, or even if he did, Paul carried the food into the kitchen, feeling quite at home now in Louis' flat. But then he had to know. “How'd you get to the couch?” he asked Harry, knowing that Louis couldn't have carried the large boy.  
“Flew.”  
“Harry.”  
The curly boy laughed. “Sorry. I hopped. Louis says the swellings almost gone and I can kinda walk on it now.”  
Paul had to remind himself that he wasn't actually Harry's father. “Just take it easy. Louis, can you help me in here?” As soon as the slender boy was in the kitchen, Paul turned on him. “How is he?”  
Louis glanced over and saw Harry started to set up for another game. So he spoke quietly. “His foot really is getting better. For the other...he flinches if I move toward him when he's not expecting it.”  
The man just nodded, having expected that. “Do you think he'll be okay to start the tour?”  
“Management still thinking of rescheduling?”  
“They really don't want to. If we can't give them a good reason, they're going to go ahead as scheduled.”  
Louis hesitated. “Did you bring up having him talk to a professional?” He knew Harry would probably baulk at the idea, but it might be good for him.  
“I'm sure you can imagine how they reacted.” Paul rolled his eyes. “Too much chance of this getting out, even though a therapist is forbidden to talk.”  
Louis kept his mouth shut even when his mind made some decisions. “Then he's going to have to be ready in two days. Maybe it'll just get better the more time passes.”  
Paul was about to say something else when they heard, “I thought the restaurant already cooked everything!” from the other room.  
Louis forced himself to laugh, grabbed two dishes of pasta and two sodas before heading back to Harry. Paul followed with his own food. “I've got updates on the tour if you'd like to hear.”  
Harry's mouth was full as he nodded. “Sure.”  
“First, you two will be sharing a suite again throughout the tour.” Louis had to wonder how much Paul had to argue for that to happened considering how much management wanted to stop rumours from happening. “Second, there will be more meet-and-greets than previous.” Both boys smiled because they enjoyed meeting the fans, thought Louis wondered how Harry would handle them.  
Paul continued to give them management's decisions about the tour as they ate, then gave in to Harry's begging to play one game of FIFA.  
Louis excused himself into his bedroom and grabbed his laptop, listening to the mock-battle going on in the other room as he tried to figure out his plan. By the time the screen blurred in front of his eyes, the two gamers had played three games – not just the one Harry promised – and were yawning widely.   
With Paul at his side but not touching, Harry managed to get into the bedroom and fall onto the bed with a satisfied smile; it had hardly hurt to limp and he knew it wasn't just from the pain pill. He was reaching for his phone to play games until he fell asleep when Louis showed up in the doorway with a cup of tea.  
“Sorry. Paul said he wanted a cuppa but then changed his mind so do want some tea?” the slender boy asked.  
Harry shrugged. He quite liked Louis' brand of tea. “Thanks.” A thought crossed his mind as Louis turned to leave. The last two nights had been horrible, nightmares waking him up every time he tried to sleep. And he remembered how Louis being close had stopped that one really bad one. Maybe...  
“Lou?”  
Louis stopped in the doorway. “Yeah?”  
“Umm...could you...you know...like before...” Harry stuttered and had Louis looking at him expectantly. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Remember when I had that nightmare and you were there and it went away?” Louis just nodded. “Maybe...you could share the bed tonight? Just to see if I have a nightmare? An experiment?” God, he felt like a baby and half expected Louis to laugh at the request.  
But Louis just got a strange look on his face that Harry couldn't identify before he nodded. “Sure. I'll just get my tea. Be right back.”  
Harry laid on his back and stared at the ceiling as Louis laid on the other side of the bed and curled up facing Harry.  
“This okay?” the blue-eyed boy asked softly.  
“Yeah.” It actually was.


	5. Chapter 4 - Diana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Diana"
> 
> “We all need something/  
> This can't be over now/  
> If I could hold you/  
> Swear I'd never put you down.”

Louis watched Harry get jumpier and jumpier from the moment the plane landed in Australia and had no idea how to help. It had been weeks and nothing was getting better. At least the younger boy's eyes no longer looked bruised from sleep deprivation. Louis had shared the bed with Harry, not touching, every night since Harry asked and there had only been a few minor nightmares that Harry didn't even wake up from.  
But, as much as he wanted to, he couldn't wrap Harry in his arms and keep everyone from getting within ten feet of the boy. He couldn't shove aside fans when their hugs became too enthusiastic and caused pain to appear in those green eyes. He couldn't do anything when management shoved Harry forward as the figurehead at every press conference, surrounding him with paps.  
The only thing he could do was be observant. He used his slight stature – the first time he'd ever been grateful for it – to slip between Harry and the others on photo shoots so Harry didn't flinch at the touches. He acted the clown to get fan's attention diverted when he knew Harry needed a moment to collect himself. And he acted the sassy bitch to keep the paps focused on hating him instead of hounding Harry. It was all he could do.  
The band had just finished their last meet-and-greet for Australia when Caruthers pulled Louis aside as the others went back to their lounge.  
“Do you have a problem following my directives, Louis?”  
Louis just lifted an eyebrow in question. Obviously, he did, but he wanted to know exactly which ones he'd broken this time.  
“The attention you are bringing to this band by being so antagonistic to the media is not showing us in a positive light. I've told you; let Harry handle them. You keep silent in the background.”  
The boy huffed. “I'd stay 'silent in the background,'” he mocked Caruthers' voice, “if they actually asked Harry about relevant things. Not bothering him with whatever stupid rumor they've come up with this week. Really, asking him if he's really slept with a hundred girls. Honestly!” He threw his hands up in exasperation.  
Caruthers didn't react. “It's not up to you which questions are relevant.” Code, Louis knew, for the paps were told by management to ask about it. For Harry's 'image.' “Those are questions you should all be prepared for and willing to answer.”  
“It's bollocks. How many times are you going to make Harry answer those questions? If they don't believe it yet, they never will.”  
“You have no idea what they believe. And that's not the point. My point here is that you should not be interfering with Harry's interviews. I understand that he was injured, but that was in the past. He's healed, now, and he's a big boy. He doesn't need you to protect him anymore.”  
Louis didn't realize how much words like that could hurt. “First, his ankle is healed, his bruises are gone. That does not mean that he's healed. Second, I know he doesn't need me to protect him; I'm not. I'm being his friend. I'll stop what I'm doing when he asks me to, understand?” He walked away before Caruthers could answer.  
The moment he walked into the lounge, Louis groaned. The lads were enjoying a pillow fight to let off excess energy and he knew where it would lead; where it always lead. To a wrestling match where one boy was singled out. And he knew – just knew – that it would be Harry this time.  
Sure enough, even as he watched, Niall dropped his pillow and tackled Harry from behind. Harry went down like a tree and stayed there with Niall sitting on top of him, trying to wedge his fingers into one of Harry's ticklish areas. Zayn and Liam quickly joined in, pulling and tugging at Harry to give Niall access. Harry was frozen and the others didn't notice.  
“Hey!” Louis was quick to interrupt them, bringing attention to himself once more. “Get off him. You're smothering the lad!” He said it as a joke, but the others moved, seeing that Harry really was breathing hard, and not from laughter.  
As soon as he was free, Harry scrambled to his feet and darted past Louis out the door.  
“What the hell?” Zayn wondered.  
“Did he hav'ta wee?” was Niall's contribution.  
Louis just stared at them for a moment. “You do remember what happened to him last month, right?”  
“You mean when he hurt his ankle? He got into a fight, right?” Niall asked, picking up his pillow to try to start the war again with Liam.  
Louis wanted to kill Caruthers. “Is that was they told you?” Zayn was the only one really paying attention now and nodded. “He didn't get into a fight, you pricks. He was attacked!”  
That stopped the other two. “Attacked?”  
“Yes. Do you really think Harry would get into a fight? That kitten?” He could see the realization on their faces, but didn't tone down his words because, really, they should have known it wasn't true. “A group of guys beat him in an alley after he left the Uni party. At least three against just him. And now you three were standing over him trying to attack him. Do you really think he'd be okay with that?”  
“Attacking him? But, we were just ticklin',” Niall put in and Louis didn't feel like explaining that there was no difference in Harry's mind right now. He'd leave that to Liam, who was already whispering in the younger boy's ear.  
Instead, Louis thought about going after Harry, but decided to let the curly-haired boy have a bit of alone time to calm down. Maybe he'd come back on his own.  
A thought struck and he quickly turned back to the others. “You can't act any different to him, lads. Don't ask him about it or anything. Just be a little more gentle with him.”  
“Yeah, okay,” Zayn answered for them all.

Harry didn't come back to the lounge. No one saw him again until Louis returned to the suite they shared after dinner and found Harry sitting on the sofa watching TV.  
“Harry–”  
“I'm fine,” Harry interrupted.  
“Okay. I was gonna ask if you ate, yet, but okay.” Louis dropped down on the other end of the sofa and grinned when Harry flushed.  
“Sorry. Yeah, I did.”  
“Good.”  
There was a bit of an awkward silence before Louis decided he couldn't sit still. He shifted positions several times before Harry's annoyed look had him shooting to his feet. “Tea?”  
“Sure.” Harry hoped maybe it would calm the older boy down.  
Five minutes later, Louis was bouncing slightly in his seat, even as he drank his tea. Harry watched in fascination as he never spilled a drop.  
“So, are you sure you're okay?”  
Louis' question caught him unaware and he scowled. “I'm fine.” Refusing to be around Louis, who might guess that he was lying, he headed for his bedroom.  
“Mmhmm. Okay.”  
Harry jumped in fright as arms wrapped around his waist and held on. Leader's face blinked in front of his eyes and he heard a whisper of that voice saying “So tight. Fuck.”  
The arms disappeared and Harry spun around to attack his attacker, stopping when he saw the serious blue eyes of his band mate. It wasn't often he saw them without some glint of humor.  
“You're not okay, Harry,” Louis accused.  
“Fuck off. And don't touch me.” He needed to be alone.  
“Please. Let me help you, Harry.”  
Harry spun again, furious. “I don't need your help! Fuck!” His hands fisted in his hair. “Just let me forget. Nothing happened!”  
Louis grabbed one hand and held on when Harry tried to tug away. “That's not working, Curly. You're not forgetting. Please, talk to me!” he begged.  
“No!” A moment later, Louis regretted grabbing only one hand because Harry hauled back and punched him as hard as he could to make him let go.  
Louis collapsed to the floor more in shock than in pain., holding his jaw. And then the pain struck and he groaned, falling onto his back.  
Harry stood frozen for just a second before dropping to his knees next to his friend, tears in his eyes. “Fuck. Shit. Louis, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Lou!” He reached over out touch, but hesitated, thinking Louis would push him away. “I'm so, so sorry. I just...”  
Louis heard the horror in Harry's voice and made himself sit up. “Harry. Curly, shut up. You hit like a girl.” It wasn't exactly true, but Louis needed Harry to stop crying. He tested his jaw and knew it was just bruised, so he didn't worry.  
“I'm so sorry, Lou. I don't know why...I just needed...” Harry didn't know why or what he needed.  
“Just shut up.” Louis decided it was time to stop being so gentle. “Do you know why you hit me?” Harry shook his head. “Because you're scared. You're scared all the time. I can see it.” Harry's head hung and Louis knew he was right. “Do you want to know how to stop being so scared?” Harry's nod was miniscule but Louis accepted it. “You talk to someone. Tell someone why you're scared and maybe you'll see there's nothing to be scared of.”  
“But, who?” Harry's voice cracked. “Who do I talk to? I can't...not to you, or the lads, or management.”  
Louis hesitated. But he couldn't not tell Harry. Or not show him. “Come with me.” He stood up and waited for Harry to do the same, noticing that Harry was so slumped over in shame that they were nearly the same height. “Hey, as long as you don't hit me again, just forget about everything, okay?”  
Harry straightened a little but not as much as Louis hoped. But he didn't push. He just led the way into his room and grabbed his laptop.  
Making Harry sit on the bed next to him, he pulled up a folder that he'd made just days after the attack. “These are people you can talk to. They're trained psychiatrists who cannot legally tell anyone anything that you tell them. And they'll all be able to help you.” He pointed to the many email addresses he had saved.  
“But...we're not even in the country. And I can't leave the tour.”  
Louis brushed that concern aside. “I already asked. They're willing to use this thing called technology and the Internet. See, just because they're old doesn't mean they don't know how to Skype.”  
Louis' sarcasm had Harry laughing, but he stopped suddenly. “You talked to them?”  
“Only through email.” Louis assured him. “And it was a dummy account. All I said was that I had a friend who'd been attacked, was extremely concerned about privacy, and whose schedule meant he couldn't have in-person meetings. These are the ones that responded that they could deal with all that.”  
Harry looked back and forth between Louis and the screen for several second. “When did you...? Why did you...?”  
“When? A few days after. Why? Because the doctor said it would probably be a good idea and management wasn't doing anything.” Because I love you and would do anything to help you, even though helping you means that you'll be able to handle other people touching you, not just me. Louis wished he could tell the whole truth but it wasn't yet time. Though he could see speculation in Harry's green eyes.  
“Can I...? I mean...I might not...But can you...?”  
Louis laughed. “You really should start finishing your sentences, curly.”  
Again, Harry flushed. “Right. Sorry. Can I have these names? I'm not saying I'll talk to them, but...Can I have them?”  
Before Harry had even finished speaking, Louis had his email open and was attaching the file to Harry. “I did get them for you,” he said in explanation.  
“Thanks.” Harry sat there fidgeting for several moments, making Louis hide his smirk, before, “I'm going to bed!” And he was out the door.  
Louis laughed and, to give Harry time to contact whoever he wanted since that's obviously what he intended, called home.  
“Hi, Mum.”  
“Boo! Baby, how are–” She interrupted herself. “What happened?”  
“Huh? What do you mean?”  
“Did a fan throw something again? Where did you get that bruise?”  
“Oh.” Louis had forgotten all about Harry's punch. “Harry hit me.”  
“What? Oh, Boo, what happened?” This time the question came out sympathetically. His mother was the only person he'd told about his feelings and everything that was happening.  
“Wasn't really his fault, Mum,” he defended. “I was trying to get him to talk 'cause he panicked earlier with the lads and I pushed too hard.” He saw her open her mouth to comment and beat her to it. “He felt really bad about it immediately and apologized and it really doesn't hurt much. And he finally listened. I showed him the list of therapists and, I think, he's finally going to talk to someone.” He was talking so fast she couldn't comment until he finished and he could see she was worried.  
“Okay, Boo. If you say so,” she said slowly. “Just, please, be careful. He's obviously not in a good place, right now.”  
“I'm not giving up on him, Mum,” he answered firmly. “Not now. Not ever.”  
His mum raised her hands in surrender. “Fine. Fine. And, Boo? Put some ice on that before your stylist has a heart attack.”  
Louis laughed and immediately told her to wait while he did so. If he was honest, his jaw was aching and he was more than happy to just listen while she told him all the girls had done while he was away.  
By the time he finished complimenting the twins' latest artwork, he could barely keep his eyes open and his mum laughingly told him to go to bed. He didn't even bother undressing, just closed his laptop and crawled into bed.  
Screams woke him for the first time in weeks and he cursed as he made his way to Harry. It was automatic for him to lay next to the curly-haired boy and pull him into his arms. He waited for some kind of indication of which kind of dream it was before he did anything else.  
“I didn't want to. Not my fault,” Harry sobbed in his sleep and Louis knew what to do.  
“Of course you didn't want to, love. It was all them. Nothing you did made this happen.” Louis rolled onto his back and cradled Harry's head against his chest as he rubbed one hand over the sleeping boy's back. “You tried to stop them.” He became aware of Harry's sobbing getting harder, not stopping like normal, and looked down to find water-logged green eyes looking back. “Harry?” Was he awake?  
“I'm horrible!”  
“What?” This was new and Louis wasn't sure how to handle it.  
“I'm a horrible person. I deserved it!”  
Louis couldn't stand hearing that and pushed Harry onto his back, leaning over until they were eye to eye and nearly touching noses. “No!” he growled. “Never say that. You did not deserve what happened. No one deserves what happened to you.” He saw realization hit Harry and saw no reason to deny it any more. “Yes, I know what happened to you. I know what those bastards really did. I saw the blood.” More tears appeared and Louis had to fight his own. “And I'm still here, aren't I? I've known all along and I'm still here. If you were a horrible person, would I be helping you like this? Caring about you like this? No,” he answered before Harry could because he was on a roll. “I'm here because you're the best person I know. The most gentle. The most caring. The most beautiful. And you needed someone to be gentle and caring to you for once.”  
Exhausted by his rant, he collapsed away from Harry and threw an arm over his face, waiting for a response. Harry just lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling as he processed everything he'd just heard.  
Finally, Louis peeked over and laughed at the shock on Harry's face. “Seriously? It surprised you that much?”  
Harry's head slowly turned. “No. Not really.” He paused. “You called me beautiful.”  
“Just slipped out,” Louis answered with a shrug. “You're the ugliest son of a bitch I know.”  
So Harry laughed and didn't make a big deal of it, though he didn't forget. The comment got stored in his rapidly growing mental file of how Louis treated him different from everyone else.  
Turning onto his side to face Louis, he yawned. “That was the worst one in a while.”  
“I know. New rule. Louis and Harry share a cuppa and a bed every night. No matter what.”  
Harry's eyes drifted shut. “Rule breaker gets tickled. Two minutes.”  
“Deal.”  
And that was all that was said until morning.

“What the hell are you doing?”  
Louis startled awake and promptly groaned when the top of his head connected hard with Harry's chin. Somehow, they'd moved from being face to face across the bed to Louis practically laying on top of a sprawled Harry. Harry's arm curled up to rub his jaw and Louis had to suppress a grin when it actually held him in place for a few extra heartbeats.  
“Are you trying to ruin this band?”  
Louis looked at the doorway and cursed seeing Caruthers there.  
“What do you want?” Harry demanded, sitting up and making Louis do the same.  
“You two weren't at the bus on time. I had to have the hotel manager let me in to make sure you hadn't killed each other. Thank God she didn't see this!”  
“What? Two fully-clothed attractive young men?” Louis asked sarcastically because, for once, Harry was actually wearing pajamas and he'd never changed from the night before.  
“Two boys sleeping together in the same bed!” Caruthers sounded scandalized and had the boys sharing an eye-roll.  
Louis squeezed by the man to get to his bedroom. “Harry had a nightmare. You know, about that thing he's completely healed from? We talked and then just fell asleep. Nothing happened.” He wiggled his eyebrows to make sure Caruthers got the implication.  
Since both boys were throwing clothes in suitcases in different rooms, Caruthers stood between the doors so both could hear – and ignore – his recriminations equally.  
“It doesn't matter what did – “Lou, do you have my blue sweater?” “Yep!” – or didn't happen. What matters – “Harry, you have my red beanie?” “No, it's on top of the icebox.” “How the hell...?” “No idea.” – is what if someone saw? Think of the rumors!”  
Louis sat on his suitcase to zip it up. “You mean those rumors about me and Harry being in a secret relationship for the last two years? What is it they call us?” he yelled to Harry.  
“Larry Stylinson!” Harry yelled back immediately.  
“This is not a joke!” Caruthers was nearly pulling his hair out by the time the boys emerged. “There will be no more of this behavior. Is that understood?”  
“Yes, sir.” Louis saluted smartly and turned to Harry. “Is that understood, Harry Styles?”  
“Understood, Louis Tomlinson.”  
They marched sharply out of the suite and then raced for the elevator, suitcases flying behind them.  
At the bus, Louis hesitated when he was asked about his bruise. What would be the least embarrassing?  
But Harry beat him to a smart-ass comment. “Press Release found us in bed together and unleashed his inner rage.”  
What made it even better, and had everyone doubled over in laughter, was, at that precise moment, Caruthers exited the hotel with an obvious storm cloud over his head.  
Louis made a quick escape onto the bus, knowing that it was him that Caruthers was steamed at. The man was sure that the oldest band-member was the cause behind all misbehavior. And he knew his punishment was coming.  
Sure enough, less than an hour later, he was told he'd be headed off for a week's vacation with Eleanor the day after they arrived back in the UK.  
Coming over to where Louis sat glumly watching New Zealand go by, Harry and the others commiserated about him having to spend a week on the beach instead of under the gloomy British sky. “So, breaking our new rule already?” Harry teased. Louis stuck out his tongue.  
“New rule?” Liam asked and Louis waited to see what Harry would admit to.  
“Yeah, to see each other at least once a day over break. Or at least talk.” The others nodded like they thought that was actually a good idea. And it wasn't that different from what normally happened.  
“Don't blame me,” Louis answered Harry's question. “Caruthers isn't giving me a choice. He should get the punishment!” He pouted and gave his best puppy-eyes to Harry.  
“What's the punishment?” Niall demanded before Harry could decide.  
“Get tickled for two minutes.”  
All five friends turned to where Caruthers was talking intently on the phone. And burst out laughing at the thought of trying to tickle the man.  
Harry turned back to Louis and considered. “Well, I guess I can forgive you a little. So, only one minute at the bottom of the pile.”  
Louis had time to shriek – a very manly shriek – before all four of his friends jumped on top of him. There was tickling because, really, who could resist? And laughter that only got louder when Caruthers left the common area with an annoyed look and a muttered comment about immaturity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is now a little one-shot that shows more of what happened at the beginning of this chapter....


	6. Chapter 5 - Everything About You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Everything About You"  
>  “You just call my name/  
>  I'll be coming through.”  
>  “On the other side of the world, it don't matter/  
>  I'll be there in two, I'll be there in two...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. You all are amazing! Thanks for the Kudos!

Harry woke up to his screams echoing in his flat and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He turned over and almost expected Louis to be there next to him. But all he found was the clock proclaiming it 2 AM; just like the night before.  
Sighing, he rolled out of bed, knowing he'd never get back to sleep. He splashed cold water on his face and cursed. He looked horrible and he was scheduled for a PR moment in the morning. He really needed sleep.  
Before he could call himself ten types of pathetic, he was dialing Louis' number, promising himself that he would hang up after three rings.   
So he was shocked when Louis picked up almost immediately with, “Save me, whoever you are!”  
Harry laughed. “Maybe not the best way to answer.”  
“Curly!” Louis sounded so happy to hear him. “Nah, no one calls this number but you, the lads, and management. Wait, isn't it, like, late late there?”  
“Uh, yeah.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed now that he was actually talking to Louis. “Couldn't sleep.”  
“Nightmares?”  
“Yeah. So, why do you need saving?” He didn't want to talk about his dreams.  
“She's been watching E! for like five hours! And makes me listen while she describes people's style changes over years. Torture, I'm telling you.”  
A laugh bubbled up and Harry did nothing to stop it. “Poor Boo Bear.”  
“Yes. Poor me. So, what were you up to today?”  
“We went to see Avengers. It was amazing! 3D and everything.” And then he remembered how Louis wanted to see it and they'd promised to go together. “Oh, shit. Sorry. I'll go see it again with you when you get back, okay?”  
“Yeah, sure. It's a date.” Though Harry could tell he was still a bit put out. “And tomorrow? What are you doing?”  
“Press Release wants me seen out and about while you're gone because people think we're off somewhere together. I'll probably just wander around and do a little shopping. Need anything?”  
“A plane ticket home would be nice, but, no, I'm fine. Thanks, babe.”  
Harry could feel sleep creeping up on him but didn't want to hang up just yet. “So, how's the beach? Or has El trapped you in the hotel room?” He smirked thinking about the ways Louis' brain must be interpreting the question.  
“Hah. No, I bought her a new swimsuit, so she wanted to show off. And there's awesome surf here so I'll have a nice tan to prove I was away.”  
“That's good.”  
“Curly, I can hear you falling asleep. Hang up and get some rest. You can call me anytime, okay?”  
“Mhmm. Night.”  
“Goodnight, love.”

Harry smothered a yawn and looked around to make sure no paps had caught it on tape. He'd managed to sleep another few hours after talking with Louis, but he still had to wake up much too early when Caruthers called to make sure he remembered his instructions for the day. He was to be on the street for at least three hours around the lunch hour so more people would see him. Management wouldn't be leaking his whereabouts to the media, but they were sure a fan would spot him and spread the word. He was also to shop at certain shops to make sure he was spotted endorsing their contracted brands.   
A large crowd of what looked like office workers on their lunch break swarmed around him and he was spun around by someone knocking hard into his shoulder. He juggled his three bags and grinned in accomplishment when he didn't drop them or fall over.   
And then he heard, “If it isn't the little fag-boy...”  
Horror etched on his face, he looked everywhere to find the speaker, but the mass of people had moved on and he was alone on the pavement. Had he just imagined it? But he caught movement in the corner of his eye and saw someone standing in the doorway of the coffee shop he'd been heading for. Turning on his heel, he hurried in the other direction, fumbling in his pocket for his phone.  
Without looking, he dialed the first number that came to mind. When he heard the prompt to leave a voice mail, he stuttered, “I...I...I saw him. The man who...He was here...I can't...” There was a beep and the computerized voice telling him to press 9 to continue. He hung up instead and continued striding quickly back to where his driver was waiting to take him home.   
It had only been two hours, but he'd signed over a dozen autographs and he'd pushed through a group of paps carrying a Nike bag, so he considered his job done. Press Release would just have to deal with it.  
He knew it was stupid, but he stayed in his flat for the rest of the day, faking a migraine when Zayn and Liam called wanting to go to a club, and ignoring the phone calls from management. And not just in the flat, but curled up in bed. He had no reason to believe Leader had followed him, but every time he heard someone outside, he tensed and resisted the temptation to peek out the window to make sure the man wasn't there.  
It was ten o'clock that evening when someone knocked on the door and he ignored it. They knocked a second time and, at the same time, his phone rang. Seeing the name pop up, he answered. “Hey.”  
“Open the door, Curly.”  
Harry scrambled out of bed and to the door.   
Louis was there on the stoop, luggage in hand.   
“Lou.” Harry dragged the smaller boy inside and into his arms, kicking the door closed. He didn't realize that he was crying until he laid his face on Louis' shoulder and felt wetness.  
Louis dropped his bags and wrapped Harry in a hug. “Hey, hey, hey. It's okay. You're safe, Harry. I promise. You're safe.”  
“I'm such a baby. Can't even go outside.”  
Pushing Harry away slightly, Louis looked him in the eye. “You're not a baby. He hurt you; hurt you bad. It's okay to panic a little. You didn't run away screaming, did you?”  
Harry laughed a little. “Almost. I suppressed the scream, though.”  
“Well, that's good.” Louis steered them toward the sofa. “Tell me what happened.”  
So Harry told everything, which wasn't much. “Sorry. I don't know why I called you. I didn't mean you had to come back.”  
“I wanted to come back. This just gave me an excuse. So here's me thanking you.” Harry laughed again and Louis felt it was okay to release their hug so they were just sitting next to each other. “Harry, tell me honestly. Have you talked to anyone other than me? One of those therapists I gave you?”  
The younger boy hesitated and Louis raised an eyebrow. “I emailed them.”  
“And?”  
“And I haven't actually talked to them,” he admitted sheepishly.  
Louis shook his head. “Okay, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to stay here tonight because the taxi's already gone. In the morning, you're going to call around, until you find one that you feel comfortable with, okay? And then you're going to talk to them.”  
“Yeah, okay.” Harry knew it needed to happen, he just wasn't looking forward to it. “Did anyone see you come here?”  
“Nope. Didn't even tell management I was coming back early, though Eleanor probably called them as soon as I left. I'll call in the morning.” Louis stretched and laid his head on the back of the sofa. He hadn't slept on the plane, his mind too busy wondering what kind of state he'd find Harry in after that mess of a voice mail. “Go to bed, Harry. I'm waking you bright and early in the morning. I think I'll just stay here since my legs can't hold me any more.”  
He yelped when he was suddenly scooped off the sofa, throwing his arms around Harry's neck just in case he was dropped. Which he was. Thrown onto the bed.  
Bouncing on the bed, he stared up at Harry in shock. “Seriously? That desperate to sleep with me?” he joked, making Harry attack his sides with tickles.  
“I'm tired. I don't want nightmares. You're nominated as my teddy bear.” It was that simple. Harry changed into sleep pants and crawled under the blanket.   
Louis rolled his eyes and got off the bed, motioning for Harry not to worry as he walked out of the bedroom. Several minutes later, he walked back in, wearing his own sleep pants and carrying two cups of tea. “You forgot the cuppa part of the rule. And all you've got is this store brand shit.”  
“Sorry,” was Harry's completely unsympathetic reply.  
Tempted to dump the hot liquid over the curls in front of him, Louis restrained himself because that would also make his part of the bed wet. Instead, he just set Harry's cup on the nightstand and finished his own.

Harry was the one waking up bright and early, feeling better than he had in days. And he knew that was because of the boy whose head was currently tucked against his neck. He felt like such an idiot, needing someone else in bed just to get a good night's sleep. Idly, he wondered if it would work with someone other than Louis. Niall was usually cuddly and wouldn't ask too many questions if Harry tried to crawl into his bed. And Harry had a feeling Louis had let it slip to the others that...the incident...was more than just a drunken fight, so that wouldn't bring awkward questions.   
But, looking down at Louis' feathery brown hair, he figured that, as long as he had Louis, he didn't need to experiment with the others. He didn't think Niall would be very understanding if the test didn't work and Harry woke him up screaming. He wouldn't cuddle Harry and tell him that everything was going to be okay. He wouldn't pretend to fight off Harry's attackers.  
But Louis wouldn't be with him always. However many rules about staying with each other they made, something would inevitably come along to separate them, like this week long holiday Louis got sent on. And Louis wouldn't always be able to get back so quickly.  
Harry felt a massive blush come at the thought of how Louis had dropped everything and flown back just because of a stupid voice mail.  
The boy curled against his side shifted closer with a sigh. Carefully, not sure what he was really doing, Harry moved his arm to circle Louis, resting his hand on Louis' small waist. His hand was on top of the fabric, but he could feel the heat radiating and didn't know if it was coming from Louis or if it was his imagination. But it felt good.  
He was no longer tired, but the clock read only 7 AM so it was much to early to get up and risk waking Louis. Instead, he closed his eyes and tried to organize his thoughts. And all he came up with were questions.  
Why was Louis always there? Why did Louis care so much about him? Why did Louis treat him different than Niall, Liam, and Zayn? Why didn't Louis care that Harry was broken?  
Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice his body turning instinctively onto its side, pulling Louis against his chest.

It was ten o'clock when Louis ran back into the room from the bathroom and jumped on the bed, calling for Harry to wake up. Harry tugged the blanket over his head with a groan. He must have dozed off again and never figured out the answers to the questions running through his head.  
“C'mon, Curly. I want you to hear how pissed management is that I'm back early.”  
Harry threw the blanket away and glared. “Tell them to be mad at me. It's my fault.”  
“Nah. You know I don't give a shit. Better I be their whipping boy instead of them losing their number one boy.” He dug a finger into Harry's side and had him giggling, both at the feeling and the thought that he was management's favorite.  
There was a knock on the door and Louis' face lit up. “Perfect timing. I tweeted that I was back in Merry Ol' England about thirty minutes ago. That should be the lynch mob.”  
Harry groaned. He didn't understand why Louis got so much pleasure riling their management team up, but did admit that it could be hilarious at times.   
Rolling out of bed, he hurried into the bathroom, hearing Louis enthusiastically greeting Caruthers in the living room. He really wanted to hear Press Release's reaction.  
When he finally entered the room, he saw Louis didn't look quite so enthusiastic anymore, his arms crossed, hips cocked, and a bored expression on his face as he stared across the coffee table at Caruthers. Neither one had sat down.  
“...irresponsible it was to leave Eleanor alone like that. What will the media say about you abandoning her?”  
“Well, they might think he's a good friend for coming home when one of his band mate's called,” Harry defended. “And how did you know he was here?”  
Caruthers turned and Harry rolled his eyes when the man's face softened slightly. It was true; Caruthers liked him more than Louis. “You tweeted that he was back, Harry. Since there would be no reason for you to be at his flat, it was obvious where he would be.”  
Harry looked over at Louis and saw a small smirk. “You tweeted from my account?”  
Louis shrugged. “Couldn't resist.”  
And so Caruthers added invasion of Harry's privacy to his rant against Louis. “You think you're funny, Louis, but you really aren't. Your behavior has consistently gotten worse and, soon, there will be no turning back from the image you are creating for yourself. Soon, neither Eleanor nor I will be able to disguise what you truly are because we will not care enough to try.”  
Harry had to interrupt here because he was confused. “Wait. What do you mean 'what he truly is'?”  
Caruthers raised his eyebrows to Louis, daring him to tell. Louis sighed and accepted the challenge. “I'm gay, Harry.”  
“Oh.” Harry didn't know what else to say and it didn't seem appropriate to say anything else anyway.  
Louis looked back at Caruthers, a little disappointed that he couldn't read Harry's reaction for once. “I don't give a shit about whether you can disguise it. I'm not trying to disguise it. But that's not why you're here is it? You're here to yell at me for coming back before you were ready. For trying to be a good friend because Harry needed me and there was no one else. If you hadn't sent me off on that stupid trip, this wouldn't have been an issue!”  
“Yes.” Caruthers didn't see the point in hiding it. “That is part of the reason I'm here. And that issue is done. You will fly back to the island and finish off your vacation with Eleanor.” He turned to Harry, pushing Louis out of his mind. “Harry, I'm very happy with the response from yesterday's outing. I tried calling last evening, but your phone was off, so, because I was forced to come here anyway, I wanted to tell you. Also, we've had a request from an American manager for you to be linked with his client. Romantically. Is it acceptable to you?”  
“Umm...sure. Okay. What do I have to do?”  
Caruthers laughed and waved the question. “Not to worry. Just do what I tell you and it'll be fine.”  
Harry nodded and then furrowed his brow when Louis was suddenly stalking into the kitchen and slamming cabinet doors.  
Caruthers ignored the noise and said goodbye to Harry. It was as the door closed that Caruthers had twice heard them say the reason Louis was back was because Harry needed him, but the man had never once asked why or what happened.  
Walking into the kitchen, he watched Louis making tea for several moments. “Are you going to head back to Eleanor?” he asked, wondering if it was right to hope for a negative answer.  
“Yeah. Don't have a choice again.” He hoped the mug didn't break from him slamming it onto the counter.  
“Oh. Okay. I'm going to go contact those people like I promised, so...I'll say goodbye now.”  
Louis sighed and pressed his finger tips to his forehead. “Harry. You're going to call me every night before you go to sleep, okay? We'll do our best to keep the nightmares from being too bad. And it's only for a few more days.”  
“Yeah. It's a deal.”  
Harry wandered back into his bedroom, closed the door, and grabbed his phone and laptop. Opening the anonymous email account he'd used to contact the therapists, he found one of the return emails and called the first one, leaving a message with the receptionist as directed. He'd only given his name as “Harry” in the emails, so there was very little chance that they knew who he was. He left messages with three that he felt would be best. All men because he already knew he'd never be able to tell a woman what happened.   
It was only fifteen minutes later that he got the first call back.   
“Hello?” God, did his voice really sound that depressed? The therapists would be fighting over who got to study him.  
“Is this Harold?” the posh voice on the other end asked and Harry already knew this one wouldn't work.  
“Yes, it's Harry.”  
“This is Dr. Calhoun. I believe we've been in contact through email about the possibility of setting up times in which we could have therapy sessions through technology?”  
“Uh, yeah.” He scrambled for a way to say no without being rude. “I'm sorry, but, uh, I've already found another doctor. I'm sorry for having bothered you.” And hung up.  
Another ten minutes passed before the second therapist called and Harry spoke with him for a few minutes before the doctor's next patient arrived. Harry didn't really feel anything toward the man, but thought that he would be okay if there was no one else.  
Almost immediately after he hung up, his phone rang again and displayed the number of the third doctor.  
“Hello?”  
“This is Harry?” a voice that Harry imagined enjoyed a good laugh asked.  
“Yeah.”  
“Hello, Harry. This is Doctor Marin. How are you?”  
Harry wasn't really expecting the question because both of the others had gone right to trying to figure out how to work around Harry's schedule. “Umm...I've been better, honestly.” He should start off honest, right?  
“I'm sure you have. Your friend's first email explained very little, but I understand why that is. Can you tell me a little about why you need such conditions?” Harry hesitated. “I understand that you're nervous, Harry. But, just by talking to me, you're my client so I can't tell anyone anything you say from here on, okay?” His voice was gentle and Harry relaxed a little, knowing that this would be his therapist. “Well, my name's Harry, uh, Styles.” He waited.  
“I see. And now it makes more sense.”  
“That's it?” Harry blurted out before he could stop himself.  
Dr. Marin laughed. “Would you like me to start screaming and asking for your autograph, Harry? I imagine you get that a lot.”  
“No. No, I didn't mean...I mean...”  
“I know, Harry,” Marin soothed. “I have a few clients in the same position as you. I'm going to promise you here and now that I will always treat you like one of my regular clients, even if we only talk aver the phone. There will be no expectations from you or preconceived notions about you. I'm here to help you.”  
“Thanks.” And Harry felt his nerves start to disappear. He truly had expected that his name would get a bigger reaction and silently berated himself for being slightly disappointed that it didn't. “Umm...do we need to set up a schedule or something?”  
“That's not necessary, yet, Harry.” Harry felt his heart drop, thinking that Marin was going to say he couldn't work with him. “I've got the next hour free, so I would like to talk to you more before we decide how often we talk. Is that acceptable? Are you free now?”  
Harry nodded even though the doctor couldn't see. “Yeah, I'm free. So, what should we talk about?”  
Marin laughed and had Harry laughing, too. “Well, why don't you tell me why you think you need to talk to someone. Your boyfriend mentioned an attack...”  
Harry choked on the breath he'd just taken to answer. “Boyfriend?” he squeaked.  
“Yes, the boy who first contacted my office.”  
“Oh, well, that's just Louis. He's not my boyfriend. He's my best mate. He's the one who thought I should talk to someone.” Boyfriend? Why did the doctor think Louis was his boyfriend?  
“I see. Well, it's obvious that he cared very much about you. Why did he feel you needed to talk?” Marin glossed over Harry's reaction, making a note of it.  
“Umm...I was attacked a while ago...”   
Harry stumbled over the story and the doctor didn't ask him to clarify anything, reading between the lines and only letting Harry say what was most comfortable for him. After, he asked a few questions and Harry tried to answer them as honestly as possible, still having not truly told everything.   
By the time the hour was over, Harry had agreed to speak with Marin through Skype one evening a week, whichever day best fit his schedule.

Louis finished his tea and breakfast and grabbed his suitcase. Walking over to Harry's door, he was about to knock to say goodbye when he heard Harry talking, his voice slightly hoarse with tears.  
So Louis just smiled sadly, glad that Harry was actually talking to someone, and left the flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last pre-written chapter so the updates will be more spread out from here on. Sorry.


	7. Chapter 6 - Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Moments"  
>  “Hands are silent/  
>  Voice is numb/  
>  Try to scream out my lungs/  
>  It makes this harder/  
>  And the tears stream down my face.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I lied about the updating lag because this chapter and the next kinda just flowed. This one is a bit short because it's Louis' POV of a period of time which is explained more in the next chapter.

The day Louis returned for the second time from his forced vacation was also the day Harry had his first “date” with his newest romantic interest. The only good thing Louis could think to come out of this was it meant there were only a few paps waiting at the airport to catch him and Eleanor walking hand in hand – and two feet apart – toward the waiting car. He couldn't quite work up a convincing smile, but he joked that away with an excuse about the weather after being on the beach.  
Still pissed that he'd abandoned her so easily, Eleanor insisted on posing for several photos until Louis was tempted to just push her into the car.  
Finally alone in his flat, he dumped his clothes out of his suitcase onto his bedroom floor and considered his unpacking done. He made himself a cup of tea, fully prepared to just sit and enjoy it because the tea at the resort had been shit, and turned on the television. And promptly hurled his tea at the wall because the very first thing he sees on screen is Harry smiling at a pretty blonde girl hanging onto his arm as they strolled down a street.  
He couldn't stand it. And it was made worse because Harry knew his secret now. Well, half of his secret.  
Harry had called every night just like they agreed, but the conversations hadn't been as natural as before. Harry seemed hesitant about talking about anything but current events and their upcoming schedule. Louis didn't know if it was because Harry wasn't comfortable talking to him anymore, which broke his heart, or if Harry was just subdued because his nightmares weren't being kept away by their talks. He didn't want to ask which one it was because he was scared to get confirmation.  
Louis wished he had the courage to tell the younger boy exactly how he felt. At times, he almost blurted it out, tired of wondering how Harry would react. But the reactions he imagined always choked off the words.  
The reactions weren't the normal ones one would expect, either, because Louis knew Harry enough not to worry about them. He didn't worry that Harry would hit him for daring to admit his feelings. He didn't worry that Harry would immediately tell everyone who would listen about Louis' feelings. He didn't worry that would laugh and think it was all a joke.  
He worried that Harry would look at him seriously and tell him “Sorry, but I will never feel the same way.” He worried that Harry would start avoiding him, incorrectly thinking that it would make Louis' feelings go away. He worried that their friendship would disappear, ripping Louis' happiness into pieces.  
So he bottled his feelings up and tried to act like he normally would. He tried not to let Harry know that he noticed the other boy acting differently. He joked and laughed and didn't comment when Harry's laugh was obviously forced, even over the phone. And he didn't say a word when Harry always hung up, claiming to be unable to keep his eyes open, when Louis could hear the lie.  
The thought of Harry with someone else, even a fake someone else, was too much.  
Switching his TV to show his game console screen, he ignored the tea staining the wall and carpet and lost himself in playing games until his eyes blurred and he curled up on the sofa for a nap.

“Wakie wakie!”  
Louis batted at the thing tickling his nose and turned over, refusing to wake up.  
“Come on, Boo. We have a date, remember?”  
Louis wondered if his dreams were just getting more realistic because he could have sworn he just heard Harry say they were going on a date. Turning over quickly, he opened his eyes and, yes, that was Harry. “What did you just say?”  
“Remember? We said we'd go see Avengers when you got back? Well, you're back!” Harry threw his arms wide like he wasn't stating the obvious.  
Louis brain caught up and he rubbed his eyes. “Right. The movie. Right now?”  
“What better time?” Harry shoved Louis' feet off the sofa and sat down. “If we go now, we'll catch the matinee and maybe not get mobbed.”  
“Yeah, sure. Just...give me a sec.” Louis walked into the bathroom, shut the door, and leaned his forehead against the wood. What the hell?  
Why was Harry acting like his normal self all of a sudden? Had he just been paranoid the last few days? Had he imagined that Harry was acting different toward him?  
“Lou, hurry up! The lads are waiting,” Harry called.  
Opening the door, Louis asked, “The others?”  
“Yeah. I thought they would want to see it again, so I asked them. Is that a problem?” Harry asked nervously.  
Louis just shook his head. Okay, so Harry really was acting different. He'd never had a problem hanging out with Louis by himself before.

They managed to get into the theater with a minimum of fuss, only signed half a dozen autographs and gently pushing past fans, telling them they were already late for the movie. Louis was sure there had never been a bigger rush of people to get tickets, even though they had no idea which movie the boys were seeing.  
“Ticket sales today are going to be massive,” he commented to the others as they waited in line for popcorn. He expected Harry to shoot him a quick dimpled grin like always, but the boy didn't even glance over, just fiddled with his pant's pocket.  
The five sat in the back row to keep the fans from being able to surround them. Zayn, the best at ignoring whispers, sat on the aisle with Liam next to him. Louis subtly made sure Harry was on the other end, next to the wall, and sitting next to him, so Niall was happily sat in the middle.   
Louis was thoroughly enjoying the movie, slapping a hand over Niall's mouth several times when the boy started to give away what was going to happen next, and not holding back his cheers during the fights. Without looking, he reached for a handful of popcorn from the bucket sitting between him and Harry.   
And felt Harry jump when their hands brushed together.  
Which dampened the happiness just a bit because Harry hadn't flinched away from his touch since just after the attack, which meant this time was for a different reason. Harry wasn't comfortable with him anymore.  
He was surprised to feel tears in his eyes and quickly blinked them away, shoving popcorn in his mouth.  
After the movie, Louis blamed jet-lag and declined the invitation to have dinner with the others, wanting to go back to his flat and try to drown his sorrows alone. Taking a taxi, he checked his phone's calendar to make sure there were no meetings, photo-shoots, etc. the next day before having the driver drop him off at the liquor store closest to his flat.   
Completely forgetting that Harry would probably be calling him for their nightly awkward chat, he sat on his sofa, programmed several rom-coms to play, and drank until he fell asleep.  
The next afternoon, he finally dragged himself off the sofa and into the shower, standing under the hot water until the fog eased out of his brain and he could stand up straight without needed to hold onto the wall. Still being careful to shuffle along to keep his head from falling off, he sat on the bed to get dressed, pulling one of Harry's oversized hoodies on before he realized what he was doing and tore it off, throwing the garment across the room.  
He ignored the hangover and dug through his closet and dresser, pulling out every piece of clothing that was Harry's – or might have been Harry's since he couldn't exactly remember each piece. He picked up the pile of clothes and, not knowing where else, shoved them out of sight under his bed, promising himself that he would return them the next time he had the courage to see Harry.  
Feeling worse than he had before his shower, Louis settled back on his sofa and once again lifted the bottle of liquor.


	8. Chapter 7 - Change My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Change My Mind"  
>  “Never felt like this before/  
>  Are we friends or are we more?/  
>  As I'm walking towards the door/  
>  I'm not sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's POV of the previous chapter

Harry sighed when the door of his flat closed behind him. He knew Caruthers would be happy with his performance, but all the smiling and laughing with a strange girl was exhausting!  
His phone buzzed and he unconsciously smiled when he saw the calendar notification “Louis' back! Go see Avengers.” shining back at him. He'd put the reminder in before Louis came back the first time and wanted to make sure he didn't forget his promise again.  
Now, he wasn't sure what to do. Every time he thought about Louis, he heard the older boy saying “I'm gay,” and remembered Dr. Marin calling Louis his boyfriend.  
It wasn't that he cared that Louis liked boys. It hadn't been that big of a shock, anyway. And everyone and their mother probably knew about that time Harry had confessed to be bisexual in an interview, so he couldn't judge.  
No, it was that everything that had happened since the attack took on a whole new light with this new information.   
Maybe everything that he'd written off as “Louis' being a mother-hen” was really “Louis really really likes Harry more than a friend.” And Harry didn't know how he felt about that.   
Louis was his best friend. He'd never been afraid of talking to Louis about anything – until the attack, but that was more because Harry didn't even want to admit what really happened to himself, let alone anyone else. He'd never known Louis to judge him, even when he knew the other boys all did, if only slightly. Louis was always there.  
But did Harry like Louis as more than a friend? Could he like him as more than a friend? He needed to know the answers before he could even ask Louis if he liked him because, if he didn't, it could ruin their friendship and Harry didn't know if he could survive that emotionally.  
So, even though they spoke every night and Harry was so tempted to ask, he kept it to himself. And he knew Louis knew something was wrong because Louis had always been able to call him out on a lie, but the other boy never mentioned it. Which made Harry question everything even more, since that could mean Louis didn't want to talk about it either.  
His nightmares were actually getting worse, which worried Harry enough that he called Dr. Marin for an extra session. The man said any emotional stress could cause the nightmares to worsen, so Harry really wanted to figure out what was going on between him and Louis. Especially because he didn't think he could ask Louis to share his bed again until he knew how they both felt.  
Now, Harry really did want to go see the movie with Louis. He knew Louis was a huge fan of the Marvel characters and he never hid his child-like excitement at movies, which Harry loved to see. But, would it be too much like a real date if it was just the two of them? Would if give Louis the wrong idea when Harry wasn't ready for that?  
So he called Zayn.  
“Hey, Z. Just wondering what you're up to.”  
“Liam's over. We're just hanging. Why?”  
“Lou's back and we were gonna see Avengers since he didn't see it with us.”  
“Okay...”   
Harry knew the other boy was wondering why he was calling. He tried to sound casual. “I thought maybe you and Li'd want to see it again and then we could all do dinner or something. We haven't had a lads night in a while. All of us.”  
Zayn was silent for a moment. “Hold on.” Harry heard a whispered conversation. “Sure, Harry, we'll come. Niall actually just texted wanting to do something, so I'm sure he's up for it, too. What time?”  
“Umm...the matinee probably. I'll get Louis and meet you there.”  
“See ya, mate.”  
Harry quickly changed his clothes and headed for Louis' flat. He knocked on the door but there was no answer. He almost thought maybe Louis wasn't home, but he heard the canned cheering he knew was FIFA, so maybe Louis just didn't want to answer the door. But he also wasn't answering his phone and Louis never didn't answer for Harry.  
Grabbing the spare key from where Louis hid it, he let himself into the flat, wondering what was going on. And smiled seeing the animated characters of FIFA celebrating a win, just like he thought.   
“Louis?” he called. Maybe the older boy was just in the bathroom and didn't hear his phone.  
As he walked past the sofa, he stopped and grinned. Louis was curled up in one corner, snuggled under the blanket, game controller still held in one hand. He looked so adorable that Harry almost didn't want to wake him, but the others would be waiting and they didn't want to be late to the movie.  
“Wakie wakie!” he sang, tickling Louis' nose. The other boy swatted, grumbled, and turned over. “Come on, Boo. We have a date, remember?”   
Harry instantly regretted the words when Louis turned back over quickly and asked, “What did you just say?”  
Trying to be casual, Harry just said, “Remember? We said we'd go see Avengers when you got back? Well, you're back!” He threw out his arms like 'Surprise!'  
“Right.” Harry suppressed a grin when Louis rubbed tiredly at his eyes. “The movie. Right now?”  
“What better time?” Harry felt weird towering over the sitting Louis so he moved the legs in his way and sat down. “If we go now, we'll catch the matinee and maybe not get mobbed.”  
“Yeah, sure. Just...give me a sec.”   
Harry just watched as Louis headed for the bathroom. The door closed and Harry heard a small thud like Louis banged his head against the door. He wondered what that was about. It was a few minutes later and Louis still hadn't emerged, so Harry called, “Lou, hurry up! The lads are waiting!”  
Immediately, the door opened. “The others?”  
“Yeah. I thought they would want to see it again, so I asked them.” He couldn't very well admit that he felt a little uncomfortable going with just Louis. “Is that a problem?” Harry wondered why Louis didn't look happy? Did that mean Louis wanted it to be just them?  
But Louis just shook his head and motioned for Harry to lead the way out of the flat.

When they got to the theater, Harry was actually glad that it was all five boys because they were spotted by fans. He could just imagine Press Release's reaction to fans going wild about Harry and Louis seeing a movie alone. He didn't need that to add to his worries.  
Standing in the concessions line, he heard Louis make a snarky comment about ticket sales and grinned, but his wallet was refusing to leave his pocket so, by the time he looked at Louis, the other boy was staring off in another direction and didn't see his grin. He bought an extra-large bucket of popcorn for him and Louis to share and waited for the others to head into the movie. Niall had an extra-large just for himself and Harry's eyebrow raised slightly when he saw that Liam had bought a large popcorn and only one large drink while Zayn was empty-handed.  
They managed to get the back row to themselves and Harry was grateful when Louis motioned for him to go in first so he could sit by the wall. The rest of the seats were packed and it was inevitable that Zayn, who sat on the aisle, would be inundated with whispered pleas for autographs during the movie. At least the dark boy was usually able to ignore them, unlike Harry, who hated disappointing their fans.  
Harry had almost as much fun watching Louis watching the movie as he had watching the movie the first time. The older boy's eyes practically glowed and his enjoyment was obvious, his smile never disappearing, even when Niall started blabbing out spoilers.  
Harry's eyes kept darting to that smile and wondered if he'd have a problem kissing those lips. He wondered how Louis' eyes would look if he suddenly reached over and grabbed Louis' hand.  
He reached for the popcorn, his eyes on the screen for once. And startled when he felt Louis' hand hit his inside the popcorn bucket. He looked quickly at the other boy, wondering if it had been on purpose or if it was an accident – or fate – because he'd only just been thinking about it.  
But Louis' eyes had lost a little of their glow and his smile wasn't quite as wide as it had been just seconds before. Harry was tempted to actually take Louis' hand, but didn't want to ruin the movie for the other boy.   
As he was watching to see if Louis recovered, he saw Zayn pick up Liam's drink and take a sip. And Harry wondered. Liam was always refusing to share with any of the others, even just a crisp from a bag or a chip from his plate. And now, Harry saw him nonchalantly taking the drink from Zayn and drinking from the very same straw. What the hell? Harry wondered.  
The next time he looked at Louis, he glanced over and had to keep his jaw from dropping. Liam's arm was thrown over the back of Zayn's seat, but was mostly resting on Zayn's shoulders instead of the seat. And Zayn's head was tilted just slightly to lean on that arm.  
Were they...  
Harry stared hard at the movie screen for the rest of the movie, completely thrown by what he'd seen.

Harry pouted a little as he watched Louis climb into a taxi and drive away. He'd really wanted him to come to dinner with the others. But, if Louis really was feeling tired because of the jet-lag, Harry couldn't make him stay out. Instead, he let Niall decide on the restaurant and followed along, watching Liam and Zayn more closely than ever before.   
It was almost nonexistent, but there were little touches when they were walking next to each other. Zayn moved his chair closer to Liam's under the premise of sharing the single drink list they were given. Liam sneaking a bite of Zayn's fish and then smirking when he pretended not to see Zayn take one of his potatoes.   
Harry couldn't take it anymore and waited until Niall went to the bathroom before. “Are you two...you know...”  
Liam just blinked politely back at him while Zayn raised an eyebrow. “Are we what?” he asked.  
“You know...” Harry leaned closer to the pair to make sure no one could overhear. “Together. A couple.”  
The two boys in question looked at each other and Harry had a feeling an entire conversation was taking place. Zayn's smirk when the dark-haired boy looked back was all the confirmation Harry needed.  
“How long?”  
Liam shrugged. “Dunno. A while, I guess. Happened kinda slow.”  
“Wow. Does management know?”  
Zayn snorted and took a drink of water. “Hell no.”  
“Okay.” Now that he had confirmation, Harry was fine.  
But Liam looked at him strangely. “You okay, Harry?”  
“Yeah, why not?”  
“It's just...” Liam didn't know how to say it so Zayn took up the sentence.  
“You and Louis seem like you're having problems is all.”  
Harry forgot how to breathe for a moment. “Me and Louis?”  
Zayn's eyes widened comically. “Oh, shit. You mean you two aren't...”  
“Uh uh.” Harry just shook his head repeatedly and Liam leaned over to whisper in Zayn's ear before turning to Harry.  
“We're probably just projecting, Harry. You know, seeing what we want to see?”  
“What are you wanting to see?” Niall asked as he sat back down.  
Zayn scrambled for an answer. “Nothing,” was the best he could do and Niall rolled his eyes.  
Harry let the conversation flow past him, still trying to process that Liam and Zayn thought that he and Louis were dating. Since the idea had been bouncing around in his head all afternoon, he couldn't say he objected. No, actually, the idea wasn't a bad one, at least to try.  
His mind made up, he promised himself to call Louis as soon as he got back to his flat and really talk to him. And then he focused on dinner and his friends and enjoying the rest of the evening.

Louis didn't answer his phone. He didn't answer when Harry called the moment he walked into his flat. He didn't answer when Harry called half an hour later. He didn't answer when Harry called after getting into bed. And he didn't answer when Harry called after waking up screaming from the worst nightmare he could remember.  
Not fighting the tears, Harry curled up in bed and tried to ignore the feeling that Louis no longer cared enough to answer. Had Louis gotten tired of being Harry's shield against the nightmares? Harry couldn't blame him for being tired of being woken up in the middle of the night. Harry couldn't blame him for being tired of dealing with Harry's emotions; Harry didn't even like dealing with them.  
Knowing he wouldn't be going back to sleep, Harry started puttering around the flat, cleaning anything that wasn't already spotless, trying to tire his brain out enough to ignore the nagging feelings. Dawn slowly arrived and Harry was on his knees, scrubbing the bathroom floor. Then he moved on to the kitchen.  
When he finished cleaning, he wasn't hungry but he started cooking anything his head thought might be good because he still needed to do something with his hands. It was hours later when he had a feast waiting that he realized that he'd cooked all of Louis' favorites.   
Before the tears came, he tried calling Louis one more time but, again, it went straight to voice mail.  
Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore. He loaded his SUV with the food because there was no way he was going to be able to eat it, he drove to Louis' flat. He was going to make the other boy talk and listen and they were going to figure this out before it drove Harry insane.  
Not bothering to knock, Harry let himself in and stopped at the strong smell of liquor that met him. From the doorway, he saw Louis' head resting on the back of the sofa.  
“Lou?” he called, hoping to wake the other up. But Louis didn't even twitch. Coming around the sofa, Harry saw a few empty vodka bottles and hoped they hadn't been full the Louis got home the night before. “Louis!” He grabbed Louis' shoulder and shook, breathing a sigh of relief when Louis grumbled and tried to push him away; he wasn't unconscious. Just sleeping.  
“Okay, Lou. Time to get up.”  
Louis just let out a little snore and Harry grinned. He pulled the slim boy up and over his shoulder before walking into the bathroom and gently laying him in the tub, careful not to wake him up. Making sure the nozzle was aimed for Louis' head, he turned on the cold water full blast.  
And collapsed with laughter when Louis woke up shouting in surprise and trying to blindly turn off the water.  
“Fuck! Whoever the hell you are, you're dead!” Louis snarled, wiping the water from his eyes.  
Harry threw him a towel. “Sorry, Boo,” he laughed. “But I need to talk to you and you refused to wake up.”  
Louis climbed out of the tub and stumbled for his bedroom to get changed. Harry followed. “What are you doing here, Harry?”  
Harry grinned at the annoyance in Louis' voice. “I told you, I need to talk to you.”  
“So talk.”  
“Let's get you dry, first.” Taking the towel from where Louis was trying to dry his hair and pull on pants at the same time, he rubbed briskly at the feathery hair. When it was only slightly damp, he used his fingers to brush it back from Louis' face in the style he knew Louis favored at the moment. And then sat on the bed to wait for Louis to finished getting dressed.  
Louis stayed standing, crossed his arms defensively and looked at Harry. “Okay. Talk.”  
Harry tried not to grin again. “Did you know Liam and Zayn are together?” He knew it wasn't what Louis was expecting, so wasn't surprised at the confusion on the older boy's face.  
“That's what you're here to talk about? Liam and Zayn?”  
“It's one thing. Did you know?”  
“I suspected. Never actually asked, though. Why?”  
“I only just noticed and I asked them last night. They confirmed it.”  
“Good.” Louis shifted uncomfortably. “What else did you come to talk about?”  
“Well, last night, they said something that got me thinking,” Harry knew he was being a little cruel drawing it out like this. “They thought that you and I were having difficulties in our relationship.”  
Louis' eyes closed in mortification and he finally sat. “Shit.”  
“Yeah. So I started wondering what relationship they were talking about. I mean, we're friends, right? But it seemed different, what they were saying.”  
“Harry–”  
Harry pressed a finger to Louis' lips to silence him. “And then I realized that we actually do have a relationship other than friends, only I didn't know about it 'til last night. And I think it's something quite similar to what Li and Z have, actually.”  
Louis' eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?” he asked cautiously.  
“I'm saying, well asking, really, if you want to have dinner with me, just the two of us.”  
“Just us? Like a...”  
“Like a real date. Just to try it out. Because, you know, I'm new to the whole actual dating thing where management hasn't scripted everything.” Harry shrugged because it was actually true.  
Louis laughed and groaned. He was starting to again feel the enormous amount of alcohol he'd consumed. “Yeah, we can try. Just, I'm not feeling too great at the moment. Can I get a rain check?”  
“Nope.”   
Louis looked at Harry in shock. “Seriously?”  
“No rain check needed. I'm taking care of dinner, and you, tonight.” Harry stood up and left the bedroom, leaving Louis completely confused.  
Louis headed into the living room in time to see Harry walk back through the front door with the first dishes of food from his car. “What the hell?”  
Harry felt himself blush. “I kinda got carried away cooking this morning. Hope you're hungry.”  
“Starving.”  
“Good. Pick out a movie and sit down. I got this.”  
Louis did as he was told, still unsure of what was going on. But, first, he picked up the empty liquor bottles, slightly ashamed that Harry knew about his weakness the night before. As he was picking up the last one, he saw his phone laying in pieces against the wall and tried to remember what had happened. He had a vague memory of trying to compose a text to Harry but getting frustrated when the words wouldn't sound right. He must have thrown the phone.  
“So that's why you didn't answer last night,” Harry commented from behind him.   
Louis turned and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Uh, how did you sleep?” He already knew Harry had had a nightmare. The copious amount of food waiting on the coffee table was proof because Louis knew Harry cooked when he needed to get his mind off things.  
“Had better nights, to be honest,” Harry shrugged it off. “Come. Eat.”  
“Yes, sir.”  
Louis wasn't sure what was supposed to be happening, his mind still somewhat clouded with alcohol, so he just sat on the sofa and watched as Harry fussed, opening the covered dished, fixing them both plates, and making sure the TV remote was within reach before sitting down and spreading a blanket over both sets of legs, sitting close enough that their thighs pressed tightly together.   
“So, what are we watching?” Harry asked, starting to eat.  
“A documentary on the professional footie.” Louis bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing when Harry's fork froze halfway to his lips.  
“Great.” Harry tried to put on a convincing smile but failed and Louis shook his head.  
“Harry, what are you doing?” he asked.  
“Getting ready to watch a movie about football?”  
“No. I mean, why?”  
“Because you want to?” Harry wondered why he kept answering questions with other questions.  
Louis sighed. “When have you ever agreed to watch footie with me on telly?” Harry had to think and couldn't remember a time. Louis wasn't surprised. “So why are you agreeing now?”  
Harry huffed. “Because I'm trying to do what you want to do. Isn't that what you do on dates?”  
Louis laughed good and hard for several moments until Harry punched him in the arm. “No, Harry. Is that what management has you doing with all those women? Whatever the other one wants?” Harry nodded, curious what Louis' point was. “Harry. Harry Harry Harry. You need to make them stop doing that. Seriously. I don't want you to do whatever I want. I want you to be yourself. This isn't any different from when we would cuddle on the couch and watch a movie before you found out I'm gay. Didn't we always argue about what movie to watch?”  
“Always. You wanted some sappy movie and I wanted comedy.”  
“That's right,” Louis beamed. “So, don't act any different. Okay?”  
“Okay.” But Harry was still a little confused. “Then what makes dating any different than us hanging out?”  
Louis couldn't resist laughing again, though it was a small giggle this time. “That's the point. Didn't you say Liam and Zayn already thought we were dating? Back when we acted like ourselves? So the only thing different is we can do this.” On impulse, Louis leaned over and pressed his lips quickly to Harry's.  
Harry's eyes closed instinctively and then popped open in surprise. “Oh. I think I can do this.” Making Louis laugh yet again.   
“Good.” Louis' didn't wipe the smile off his face as he started eating.  
“Lou?” Harry whined a little. “Are we really going to watch footie?”  
Louis smirked. “Why don't you push play and see?”  
Harry groaned and silently prayed that he wasn't stuck watching some boring documentary. His eyes widened and he smiled wide when he saw Disney's Peter Pan appear on the screen. He bit his lip for a moment and then pressed a kiss to Louis' cheek. “Thank you.”  
Louis just smiled.


	9. Chapter 8 - I Would

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I Would"  
> “I feel like I'm constantly playing/  
> A game that I'm destined to lose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Y'all are amazing! Thanks sooooo much for liking this!
> 
> Next chapter might be a little while away...just a warning.

Louis saw no reason to stop smiling. Harry knew about his feelings and hadn't run screaming in the other direction. Instead, he'd actually taken the first step and come to Louis. The thought had Louis sighing in contentment.  
And he didn't really know why he was feeling so euphoric. Nothing had really happened the night before. They'd cuddled on the sofa as they ate Harry's food and watched the movie. There had been no more kisses, on the lips or otherwise. There hadn't even been any hand-holding.  
But Louis thought he would classify the night as one of the best of his life.  
He sighed again and rubbed his cheek against Harry's chest where it had rested all night. Harry hadn't had a single nightmare, which was an achievement all it's own.  
His head bounced slightly when Harry laughed. “You're such a girl, Lou.”  
“Shh...I'm basking. And you're disturbing me.” Louis laid his hand next to his cheek on the bare chest to keep Harry still.  
“Basking?”  
Louis sighed again, this time in annoyance as he sat up. “Yes. Basking. I've only been waiting two years...” Shit. He hadn't meant to say that.  
As expected, Harry shot up. “Two years? Fuck, Louis, why didn't you say anything?”  
Louis rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. Right after we got kicked from the X-Factor, I should have come up to you and said 'I'm in love with you, Harry.' What would you have done? Honestly?” There was a moment of silence and Louis nodded. “See? You were sixteen and you'd have freaked out.”  
“But...All the jokes. All the teasing. By all of us...” Harry winced thinking of some of the comments now.  
Louis shrugged. “Best way to hide the truth is to tell it like a joke.”  
“Wow. Just...” Harry had no idea what to say. “Wow. Two years?” How could he have gone so long without realizing?  
“Please don't make it into a big deal, Harry,” Louis begged. “Don't think of it like I was pining for you, 'cause I wasn't. Just, think of it as me liking you better than the other lads. Okay?”  
“Yeah. Okay.” He'd try at least.  
Desperate to change the subject, Louis grasped at the first things that came to mind. “So, have you been talking to the doctor?”  
It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes and he dropped back onto his pillow with a sigh. But his arm came up around Louis when the smaller boy snuggled down with him. “Yes. Doc's pretty cool, actually.”  
“One of the ones I gave you?” Louis tried to seem casual.  
“Yeah. Doctor Marin. I think he's got other clients who are 'big names,'” he sneered at the term, “because he's real down to Earth and doesn't make a big deal of it.”  
“Good, good.” But that wasn't really what Louis wanted to know. “And?”  
“What?”  
“Is it helping?” Louis flipped over so he could look into Harry's eyes and tell if he was lying.  
Harry paused before he answered, which was a good sign because Louis didn't want just an automatic 'Yes.' “Dunno,” he said, finally. “It's only been a couple weeks. He said it might take a while before...you know...I'm better.”  
Louis huffed and shook his head. “It doesn't matter about you being 'better,' Harry. I want you to be happy! And you're not happy when you're scared.”  
“Then I really don't know if it's helping. Haven't really had a reason to be scared lately. I guess we'll see.”  
Louis felt like cheering. If there was anything that he feared would scare Harry, remind him of what happened, it would be the thought of being in a close relationship with another man. If Harry was being truthful – and his face wasn't indicating otherwise – this thing they'd started really could work.  
But Louis knew they needed to move slow. To resist from using his happy energy kissing Harry into oblivion, he popped out of bed, announcing that he was going to make tea.  
When he practically danced back toward the bedroom several minutes later, he stopped short hearing Harry's voice talking on the phone.  
“...'course, love. I'll see you in an hour.”  
Louis walked in to see Harry rifling through the clothes hanging in the closet. “Who was that?” Who were you calling 'love'? was what he really wanted to ask.  
“Hmm? Oh, that was Taylor. She wants to meet up for coffee.”  
Louis nearly dropped the tea he was holding. He'd completely forgotten about that pretty blonde girl Caruthers had Harry fake-dating. “You're going to meet her?”  
“Yeah. Hey, I thought you had some of my clothes here from before.” Harry finally turned to look at Louis and furrowed his brow at the stricken look on the older boy's face. “Hey, what's wrong, Boo?”  
“You're going to meet her.” It wasn't a question this time, but an accusation. One that he hated himself for.  
“Louis. Lou. You know it's not real, right?” Harry seemed to understand what Louis was talking about and resting a hand on either of Louis' shoulders, bending his knees slightly until they were eye to eye. “You know that, right?”  
“Yeah. Sure.” Louis simply went to the bed, crouched, and pulled Harry's clothes out from where he'd shoved them. He couldn't work up a blush at Harry's amused look, merely shrugging. “I was drunk. And angry.”  
Harry took the clothes and leaned down to peck Louis on the lips, said “You're cute,” and frowned slightly when he didn't get a reaction.  
“Have fun on your date,” Louis said and walked into the bathroom.

Louis wanted to hit something. Wanted so bad to hit something. Preferably something breathing and wearing a very convincing mask of Caruthers' face. Instead, he settled for getting three red-cards in a single FIFA game. And using the controller to beat the stuffing out of one of the throw pillows Harry insisted on buying to put on the sofa.  
It had been three weeks since he and Harry had started trying out a relationship. And, at night, it was great. They traded off staying at each other's flats so the people watching them wouldn't get suspicious, if they ever figured out where Louis actually lived. Well, every night except the three that Caruthers booked Harry into a hotel with Taylor to sell the image of them dating. And those nights, they had spent talking on the phone until one fell asleep mid-sentence.  
Louis found himself adding blankets to the bed on those nights because he didn't have Harry's warmth next to him. And Harry had sounded so tired by the third night because he'd only been able to sleep a couple hours before nightmares returned.  
But, during the days, Louis found himself getting increasingly frustrated. If he didn't know better, he would have thought management knew about the new couple. Every interview they did, Louis was paired with everyone EXCEPT Harry. When they had live interviews with the whole group, he was held back off-screen until there was no way for him to sit next to Harry. His microphone was always set up away from Harry's. Even during photo shoots, the photographer seemed to have instructions to keep the two separated as much as possible.  
And it was all so obvious that even Harry, who was always the last to see manipulations, commented on it. To Caruthers.  
And got this as an answer. “We've decided that, to combat the rumor of you and Louis being romantically involved, the two of you should stay away from each other. We've leaked that the rumors are taking a toll on your friendship so, hopefully, fans will see that you are no longer as close as you were and stop with their ridiculous theories.”  
“You've decided.” Harry echoed.  
“Yes. We have the band's image to think of, after all. Allowing the fans to think that two of you are gay is not permissible.”  
So when they weren't being kept apart while working, Caruthers was determined to make the most of their break before heading to the US to start up the tour again. Eleanor was working overtime spending afternoons hanging off Louis' arm as they strolled around London. And Harry had actually been shipped off to LA to spend quality time with Taylor right at the end of their break, meeting up with the others at their first stop.  
Louis shoved the destroyed pillow into the rubbish bin and grabbed his suitcase, figuring he'd better wait for the car outside if he didn't want to destroy his flat. He, Niall, Liam, and Zayn had demanded that they be allowed a few days in New York before going back to work and Louis fully intended to enjoy it.  
Being the only one old enough to actually buy alcohol in the US, he stocked up his hotel room and the four partied in their rooms since they couldn't go to clubs. But that didn't exactly make Louis feel better because, when tipsy and in private, Liam and Zayn felt safe to show their relationship, dancing close together and sharing sweet kisses that made Louis want to vomit up his many drinks. He and Niall went head to head with shots, which he honestly knew not to do because the Irishman could hold his liquor. But Louis wanted to stop feeling.  
On the last day, Louis was still feeling drunk twelve hours after he'd passed out the night before. So, when Harry walked into the room, Louis greeted him with a sloppy kiss and a drunken smile. “Hazza!”  
Harry laughed. “Hey, Boo. Have fun?”  
“Yep! Me and the lads had us a party.” He waved his arm around wildly to show the other three sprawled around the suite and the many, many empty bottles.  
“I can see that.” Harry led Louis over to the sofa and got him to sit before he fell over. Looking at Liam, he raised an eyebrow, silently asking why Louis was so much more affected than the others, who were all just looking a bit tired.  
Liam just gave him a 'couldn't really stop him' shrug in return. He reached over and pulled Zayn over until the dark head was laying on his lap.  
Harry sighed and let Louis snuggle into his side. He knew Louis wasn't taking the restrictions on them well, but he didn't know what to do to ease the other boy's mind. All he could do was repeated assure Louis that whatever the media said or showed about them wasn't real.  
“I wanna tattoo.”  
Everyone froze and turned to stare at the boy who'd muttered into Harry's chest.  
“Lou,” Harry started slowly. “You've always said you would never get a tattoo.”  
“I know. But I want one now. Oops.”  
Not knowing what that last bit was about, Harry brushed it off as the alcohol. “Why now?”  
“'Cause Zayn got his here and I wanna go to his place.”  
“Why didn't you go before?”  
Louis was quiet and Harry thought maybe he'd fallen asleep. But then, “Wanted you here. Wanna match.”  
Niall cooed off to the side and Harry had to smile. It was probably unfair asking Louis when he was already more than half asleep. “Okay. We'll go later. I just got here and I want a nap,” Harry lied, moving so he was laying on the couch with Louis resting on his chest. He just wanted Louis to sleep of a bit more of the liquor. “What did you wanna get?”  
“Hi. Oops. Our first words.”  
Niall was joined in his 'awwing' by Liam and Zayn this time. Harry's head dropped backwards and he burst out laughing. Louis fell deeply asleep.  
“Now, that's cute,” Niall announced.  
“He's not going to remember a thing when he wakes up,” Harry predicted. “How much did he drink?”  
“He really went for it,” Liam admitted. “Sorry, but we couldn't stop him. He showed up with an armload and wouldn't take no for an answer.”  
Zayn jumped in. “Was all we could do to keep him from going to a club on his own, mate.”  
Harry nodded, understanding. Who knew what trouble Louis would have gotten into out there on his own, drunk as he was.  
Niall plopped down on the floor next to the couch and peered at Harry curiously. “Is it really that bad? Hiding it?”  
Harry just nodded. He was chafing under the new rules after less than a month. He couldn't imagine hiding his feelings for over two years like Louis had been forced to. Especially when Louis took pride in never hiding any aspect of his personality, be it the sassy pixie or queen bitch. He looked over to where Zayn was leaning casually back against Liam's chest. “How do you two do it?”  
“We're not under nearly as much pressure, Harry,” Liam said.  
“And we're in the background, compared to you two,” Zayn added.  
Niall laughed. “And they're not nearly as obvious. I'm tellin' ya, Australia was hilarious to watch even before we knew what really happened to ya, Harry. Louis' gotten much more protective of ya. It's like you two don't even realize what you're doing.” He gave a little nod in the direction of Louis.  
Harry looked down at the sleeping head and blushed. He hadn't noticed that he was resting one hand on the side of Louis' neck, his thumb slowly caressing his cheek. And his other hand was gently carded through Louis' hair.  
“He's right, Harry,” Liam said soberly. “It's why management is so determined to keep you apart. If you aren't next to each other, you can't touch because it's the touches that give you away. And not only recently. It's just gotten worse.”  
Harry let his head drop back down and groaned. This tour was gonna suck since there was no way to convince management to ease the restrictions. The others gave him sad little pats on the shoulder before moving away to do their own things.

Harry found that he was wrong about Louis as soon as the older boy woke up. Much more sober, which was good because Harry was sure the tattoo artist would refuse if Louis was as drunk as he'd been, Louis forced Zayn to give him the address and dragged Harry to the tattoo parlor. There was no hesitation in Louis describing exactly what he wanted and Harry just went along with it.  
He smiled when Louis insisted that the tattoos be in their own handwriting instead of the fonts provided. He smiled when Louis bit his lip and forced a brave face as the needle worked on his forearm. And he grinned widely when Louis sat admiring the 'Oops' on his forearm while the tattoo artist made quick work of the 'Hi' on the inside of Harry's bicep. He stared in shock when Louis started flipping through the sketchbook and decided to get another tattoo, a stick-man skateboarding.  
“Lou, what are you doing?”  
“If I get more than one, I can talk about the others and brush this one off.”  
Harry realized it was actually a good plan, so he got another small tattoo as well.  
The two met Liam and Zayn for dinner in a tiny restaurant where no one recognized them and enjoyed what they all secretly considered a double-date.

The next day, after arriving at their first tour city, the boys were met with another surprise. Since Paul had already told them he'd negotiated for Louis and Harry to share a suite for the entire tour, it hit harder when Caruthers announced that Zayn would be sharing with Louis, Niall with Liam, and Harry would have the single room. Louis immediately argued since Harry had frozen, thinking of the nightmares that still came when he slept alone. He'd been speaking with Dr. Marin every week, but it wasn't going quickly.  
Zayn and Liam ended up pulling Louis away from Caruthers when they feared the angered boy would punch him since the man was being extremely patronizing.  
“Harry is a big boy. He can survive being in a room all by himself. And this arrangement will be better for his and the band's image. Harry can have female friends over, you and Zayn are both in long-term loving relationships, and the others are still available.”  
Louis was growling by the time he was dragged into the elevator. “I hate that bastard!”  
“He's just trying to do his job,” Harry said, trying to sooth the anger. But it backfired.  
“His job is to keep this band together, performing, and in favor with the media. How can he justify what he's doing when he sees how it's affecting us?” Louis demanded.  
No one had an answer.  
Harry pulled Louis into his arms and whispered quickly in his ear. Immediately, Louis' face cleared and he nodded. The others wondered but dared not ask what he'd just whispered. With those two, it was sometimes better not to know.  
But, this time, the whisper was harmless.  
Harry had just reminded his boyfriend that there were no guards standing outside their doors at night to keep Louis from joining Harry in the single room. Zayn wouldn't mention a thing.  
And it worked. They hid the fact that Harry never slept alone. Zayn essentially had the suite to himself, though Louis thought he'd once seen Liam sneaking out of his room just as Harry's door was closing behind him.  
With their busy schedule, there were hardly any opportunities for fake girlfriends to be pushed on them, and management couldn't control everything. Louis found he enjoyed teasing Harry with little comments and looks when Harry had to try not to react and give himself away. And he enjoyed when Harry tried to get back at him with tiny touches and hand-brushing when they passed each other on stage.  
And the other boys joined in with the little touches to cover for them. Liam and Zayn did it as much for the other couple as they did it for themselves. And Niall was always willing to help, never shy of touching.  
Soon, they had management going crazy as more and more fans became convinced that at least one member of the band was gay, if not all. And they all had different reasons, different proofs, so there was no way to fully deny and shut down the rumors.  
Louis never hid his smile when he saw Caruthers talking furiously into his phone almost every day, practically pulling his hair out in frustration.  
Every interview had at least one question about their relationships, either with the girls or with each other and, though they were instructed on what to say, the boys always managed to maneuver around a flat-out denial, which just caused more uproar.  
Harry was the worst. He'd actually unconsciously nodded to a question about Larry Stylinson even as he said there was nothing to the rumors. After that, Harry was forbidden to answer any similar questions.  
But, as much as he relished seeing their management team scrambling, Louis was getting frustrated. It was as if his relationship with Harry had stalled because they could do nothing a normal couple would. There had been no dates. All of their free time was scheduled and separate. They slept in the same bed, but Harry always shied away from anything more than kisses. And he understood why; he really did. But that didn't make it any easier.  
By the time they arrived in Las Vegas, Louis was determined to drag Harry off to get another tattoo. Another reminder that they really were together for Louis to see whenever he couldn't see Harry. And Harry found he couldn't argue because he needed the same thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case any Larry purists are reading this, I'm completely aware that the tattoos didn't happen like this, or even in this order. This is just how it fits the story. And I thought it would be cute.


	10. Chapter 9 - Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Alive”  
>  “We got to live before we get older/  
>  Do what we like/  
>  We got nothing to lose/  
>  Shake off the weight of the world from your shoulders/  
>  Oh, we got nothing to prove.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RL sucks ATM so I needed something fluffy and cute so here it is...

Louis couldn't sleep. They were in Los Angeles. They'd been in LA for a full day and had hardly been able to do anything without cameras being shoved in their faces. So many cameras that the group had finally given up and returned to their hotel for a quiet night in their hotel suites.   
Louis huffed in disappointment. In LA and they were secluded in a hotel. He could practically feel the energy just outside and there was no way for him to join it.  
Seeing as he would never be able to get to sleep just laying there, he carefully squirmed from under Harry's sleeping body and wandered to the window, hoping to experience the sights from afar. He stepped out onto the balcony and immediately grinned. It was raining.  
It wasn't the rain he was used to from the UK, hardly enough to wet the pavement fully but, from the empty sidewalks he could see, it was enough to chase people inside.  
“Harry!” he hissed, grabbing the first pair of jeans he could see, starting to put them on before he realized they were Harry's. So he threw them at the bed. “Wake up!”  
Harry pulled a pillow over his head. Louis finished pulling on his own jeans and jumped on the bed.   
“Come on, curly. Wake up!”  
“What?” Harry demanded, ripping the pillow away and glaring at his boyfriend. “It's fucking one in the morning.”  
“I know. It's perfect. We're going out.”  
Harry's head fell heavily on the mattress. “What are you talking about, Louis? Why is it perfect?” How could Louis be so energetic so late?  
“Because it's raining and no one will know it's us and we can be just two normal lads for once in LA. Please, Harry?” Louis begged.  
“Sneak out?” Harry hesitated. The last time he went out on his own...  
Louis instantly read his expression and sobered, sitting on the side of the bed. “It won't be like that, Harry. I promise. I'll be there with you the whole time. We won't go anywhere without loads of people around. And we'll only stay out a couple of hours. Nothing's going to happen. I promise.”  
Harry finally gathered his courage, smiled and sat up, making Louis cheer and throw more clothes at him to hurry him up.  
Before leaving the room, both boys pulled on beanies and lifted their hoods to hide their faces. They held in their laughter as they rushed through the plush lobby and out into the moist air. The rain had already stopped so it was humid but still so much better than the chilly rain of London.   
“Okay, now what?” Harry asked as soon as they were in the clear.  
“Umm...” Louis actually hadn't thought that far ahead and Harry laughed.   
Louis gave Harry a little shove and impulsively waved down a passing taxi. He held the door for Harry to slide in and then told the driver, “Take us somewhere fun.”  
“Fun?” The driver turned to look at them.  
“Yeah. You know, the real LA.” Louis didn't honestly care; he just wanted to be free for a while.  
“But not the strip clubs,” Harry rushed to say.  
The driver laughed and turned around to start driving again. “Gotcha.”  
When the taxi stopped again, Harry looked at the building they were in front of and frowned. “But, it's closed.”  
Which set the driver laughing again. “You just walk, kid. Head up that direction,” he pointed, “and there are all kinds of fun things to see.”  
“Thanks, mate!” Louis passed the money over and grabbed Harry's hand, dragging him away since the younger boy was still blushing.  
“You kids have fun!” the driver yelled as he drove away.  
Louis kept hold of Harry's hand as they walked in the direction they'd been pointed. Between the lights and the people, it was hard to believe it was really after midnight, but Louis loved it. There were others just strolling so he had no desire to do anything but hold Harry's hand and look.  
Harry covered his mouth to muffle his giggles. Louis was bouncing with each step so much that his fringe was flapping from under his beanie. And his smile was so wide that Harry didn't feel the need to look at anything but him.  
Suddenly, Louis was tugging insistently and Harry had no choice but to follow along as they headed toward a fountain that was lit up with lights. “Oh, Harry, isn't it beautiful?”  
Harry smiled and had a sudden urge to immortalize the view of Louis being washed in the light from the water spouts. Taking his phone, he quickly snapped a picture. “Definitely beautiful.”  
Louis gave an embarrassed little grimace before grabbing the phone and taking a picture of Harry, too. “There. Now we're even.”  
Harry snatched his phone back and looked around. There weren't many people around and those who were seemed to be minding their own business. “I dare you to go in there.”  
“What?” Had Louis actually heard that?  
Harry had a smug little grin on his face. “I dare you to climb over the fence and play in the fountain.”  
“I will if you will,” Louis challenged back.  
“You first.”  
Looking around to make sure no one was paying close attention, Louis stripped off his hoodie and toed off his shoes since he was going to get soaked. The fence was only about two feet high, so he merely stepped over it and then shuddered when he stepped into the cold water.   
Both boys jumped and looked around guiltily when music started playing from nowhere. But nothing else happened, other than the fountain continuing to jump in a seemingly random pattern. Louis froze on the edge of the fountain, waiting for someone to shout at him. No shouts came.  
Harry, who'd been watching the water, gasped. “Lou, the water's going in time with the music. It's dancing!”  
Louis turned to watch, saw that Harry was right, and then turned back with a massive grin, holding his hand out. “Well, come on, Curly. It's the best invitation in the world!”  
Harry returned the grin. He made quick work of his hoodie, shoes, and socks and jumped over the barrier. Taking Louis' hand, they moved closer to the center of the fountain, trying to avoid the spouts of water. The tune changed and Harry started softly singing along with the melody as his body swayed. Louis joined in and soon they were waltzing through the fountain, singing to each other and laughing at each other when they messed up the words or got a face full of water. Eventually, the music ran out and Louis was laughing so hard Harry had to hold him up.  
They both turned at the sound of applause and blushed simultaneously. They'd gathered a small audience on the other side of the barrier. Moving quickly to where their dry clothes were waiting, they tried to wave off the cheers and catcalls, hiding their faces with the bunched up clothing. Management would kill them if they ever found out about the outing.  
The crowd went away quickly now that the show was over and Louis guided Harry over to an empty bench so they could get dressed properly. Figuring it would be warmer, Louis pulled off his soaked t-shirt and slipped the dry hoodie on before stomping into his shoes and wringing out his beanie. Harry hesitated before shyly taking off his own shirt, pulling his hoodie on as quickly as possible.   
While Harry was having trouble getting damp feet into his socks, Louis spotted a small coffee stand and, making sure Harry knew exactly where he'd be, rushed over. He was already feeling chilled and it would suck to have to explain why he and Harry were both sick at the same time while staying in the hotel.   
The girl behind the counter grinned at him as he came up. “That was awesome. And so cute! There were a few people who tried that during the day but the cops always made 'em stop before they could really start. And you and your boyfriend have amazing voices!” she gushed, even before he could place his order.   
Louis smiled but tried to keep his face down, hoping she would think it was from embarrassment. He loved the way she immediately called Harry his boyfriend. He loved that word. “Thanks. Two, please.”  
“Ohh, and you're British, too. These are totally on the house.” She quickly poured two cups and started to hand them over before pulling them back, looking at Louis curiously. “Hey, are you...? Umm, I think the band's called Three Dimensions or something. Are you one of them? You and your boyfriend?”  
Louis shot her a quick grin, grabbed the coffees and turned away. “Sorry, love. Never heard of them.” He heard a little gasp followed by “Oh. My. God!” and couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he headed back to where Harry waited.  
“I think Three Dimensions just got a new fan,” he commented, completely confusing Harry, who'd just taken a sip of coffee.  
“Who?”  
“You know. That British boy band. Three Dimensions.”  
Harry doubled over in laughter.  
They earned several strange looks walking back into the hotel still dripping wet. Their taxi had done his best to get them back fast before they ruined his backseat with water. Louis' skinny jeans felt like a second skin and he could just imagine how big his ass looked. Harry seemed to enjoy it though, because his hand kept creeping down from where it rested at the small of Louis' back. And Louis' hand was quite comfortable tucked into Harry's back pocket, even though it was freezing cold.  
Louis was sure the only reason they weren't stopped from getting into the elevator was because the woman at the reception counter had seen them leave earlier.  
Harry swiped his room key and frowned when it was rejected. He checked to make sure he had the right room before trying again. “Lou, there's something wrong.”  
Louis moved down the hall to try his own card and had the same problem. He knocked several times, hoping Zayn would be awake or at least wake up. Several moments passed with no hint of movement from inside and Louis rejoined Harry. “We're gonna hafta get them reset,” he declared. “Unless we wanna sleep in the hall.”  
Harry nodded in agreement, hugging himself for warmth because the corridor was chilly when he was just standing still.  
Louis plucked the card from Harry's hand and leaned up to give him a little peck on the lips. “Be right back, babe. Move around a bit, yeah?” He dashed for the elevator and rubbed briskly at his arms as he rode back down.  
The woman looked a bit annoyed when she saw him approaching. “Can I help you, sir?” Her voice was scrupulously polite and Louis grinned. He imagined she thought they were just kids splurging or wasting their parents' money.  
“Our key cards got a bit wet, I'm afraid. Can you reset them for us?”  
“Room numbers?” she asked curtly.  
Louis gave them, watched her enter first one, then the other, and saw her face get whiter and whiter as she realized just who had booked those rooms. He just kept grinning as her eyes darted between him and the computer screen several times.   
“O-Of course, sir. The cards, please.” She quickly reset the cards and gave them back, blushing when Louis winked.  
“No one needs to know about this, right, love?” She shook her head quickly, probably thinking her job would be on the line if she said so much as a word. Louis felt a little bad giving her the wrong impression, but he had to ensure management wasn't told of their adventure. He beamed. “Thanks. Ta, love,” he called as he moved back to the elevator.  
Harry was hopping from foot to foot when Louis returned and opened the door to Harry's room. The larger boy headed straight for the bathroom to change out of his wet clothes. Louis watched him go and hated that Harry was no longer comfortable being undressed in front of anyone, especially him. But there was nothing he could do without making Harry even more self-conscious and, hopefully, Dr. Marin would help with that issue as well.  
“Take a hot shower while you're in there,” he advised through the door. He was turning away when he realized that he needed a towel to dry himself off before going to bed. So he knocked on the door, passed Harry a pair of sleep pants and received a towel in return.   
He made quick work of toweling off and changing into completely dry pajamas before crawling under the blankets and waiting for Harry to finish. He hoped Harry wouldn't get sick but the younger boy always seemed more susceptible to head colds than the other boys. Guilt started setting in for dragging Harry into the fountain, but Louis berated himself because there was no way of knowing if Harry was even going to get sick. There was no point beating himself up for something that might not happen.  
Louis grinned and held the blankets up when Harry dashed from the steam-filled bathroom to the bed, immediately huddling under the warm covers and against Louis' side. Making sure Harry was completely covered from the neck down, he kissed the curly hair in front of him and told Harry sternly to sleep.

Louis bounced awake when a massive sneeze erupted from Harry and shook the bed.   
“Uh oh,” was all he said, watching Harry sniffle and rub at his slightly red nose.  
“I'm fine,” Harry insisted, making Louis snort.  
“I'm sure you are.” Seeing that the sun was barely up, he kissed Harry's forehead, secretly checking for the non-existent fever. “Go back to sleep.”  
As soon as he was sure Harry was asleep, breathing heavily through his mouth due to congestion, the older boy carefully climbed out of the bed. Throwing a shirt on over his sleep pants, he slipped down the hall to the room he was supposed to be sharing.  
Just as he suspected he would, he walked in and found Zayn already up and eating breakfast.  
“Hey, Lou. Bit early for the daily walk of shame, isn't it?”  
“Bite me. Is your boy still here?” It was the first time he'd ever asked and was rewarded with a slight blush and dark eyes darting toward the closed bedroom door.  
Zayn cleared his throat. “So, where's Harry?”  
“Sick in bed.”  
Zayn groaned. “How?” His eyebrows shot up at Louis' guilty look. “What did you do?” If it was Louis' doing, it could have been anything.  
“We might have sneaked out last night.” He was going to stop there but Zayn waved for more information. “Didn't drink or anything; I'm not stupid. I just wanted to see LA. We took a taxi to some outdoor shopping center with a fountain that danced to music.” Zayn groaned again, already guessing what happened. “We danced in the fountain. It was amazing!” Louis gushed unashamedly before he sobered. “But Harry caught a cold.”  
“What time did you get back?”  
“About half-three.”  
“Shit, Lou.” Zayn put his cereal bowl in the sink. “Get dressed. Maybe if we get some meds in him quick it won't be so bad.”  
They both headed for their respective bedrooms and, five minutes later, the three boys were riding down to the lobby. Louis kept making little comments to get Liam blushing until the muscular boy threatened not to show Louis where the nearest chemists was since he was the only one who remembered.  
Louis shut up.  
The boys grabbed what they needed and were back in the elevator before anyone so much as noticed them.  
When Louis let himself into Harry's room, he smiled softly. Harry was sprawled on his stomach, but was so far under the blankets that only the tips of his curls and one hand were visible. He made a cup of honeyed tea and waited until it was cooled enough to drink quickly before gently shaking Harry awake, laughing when the sick boy swatted at him.  
“Just take the meds and you can sleep for a few more hours, I promise.”  
Harry propped himself up, with Louis' help, just enough so he wouldn't choke, took the two pills, chugged the tea, and flopped back down.  
“I'm sorry, Harry,” Louis said softly, pushing back Harry's fringe.  
“I's not so bad,” Harry slurred.  
“We shouldn't have gone out last night. Shouldn't have gotten wet.”  
“Nah.” His eyes closed at the memory, Harry gave a sleepy smile. “Was worth it.”  
Louis smiled. “Sleep. I'll figure out what to tell Paul and the others.” He was really glad Paul wouldn't care that the boys were sharing Harry's room because there was absolutely no way Harry could tell a convincing story when he was drugged on cold medication.  
Taking preemptive action, Louis texted Paul and told him that Harry was ill. Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door.  
“What did you two do?” Paul asked as soon as he was let in.  
Louis did his best to act innocent. And tell as much of the truth as possible in case Harry let something slip. “We couldn't sleep, so we sat out on the balcony since we wanted to see the city. It started to rain a bit but not hard and the city looked so good that we got a bit wet.” He paused to see if he needed to continue and Paul just waited. “It got a bit chilly so we came in, I made Harry take a hot shower, and we went to bed. That's it.” He felt proud of himself for the story he'd come up with.  
“You got wet from the rain on the balcony,” Paul repeated.  
“Yes.”  
Paul was absolutely sure he was being lied to and rubbed tiredly at his forehead. But he let it go because it wasn't worth the explosion the truth would probably bring from management and it obviously didn't have any consequences other than Harry's cold. He started to speak and rolled his eyes when Harry snuffled slightly on the bed.  
“Have you given him anything?”  
“Um, yeah. Liam, Zayn, and I went out and got him medicine this morning,” Louis admitted, making Paul sigh.  
“How long were you gone? Did you get spotted?”  
“Ten minutes. No.” Louis really didn't want to get yelled at. Not by Paul.  
“Next time, at least text me first. Okay?” He could sometimes overlook one boy leaving without notice for a short time. But three? They were all grown men, but it was his job to protect them. Even from themselves.  
“Promise.”  
Paul found himself sighing again, wondering if that was another lie. “Let Harry sleep as long as he can. You're due at wardrobe at two. I'll pass on the news.”  
“Thanks.” Louis closed the door and threw the bolt so no one would be able to open it even with a key card. He didn't know when or if housekeeping would be around, but he put up the “Do Not Disturb” signal to be safe. And then climbed back into bed. He hadn't had nearly enough sleep.


	11. Chapter 10 - Something Great

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Something Great”
> 
> “One day I'll come into your world and get it right/  
> I'll say we're better off together here tonight”  
> “You're all I want/  
> So much it's hurting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This used to be the author's note, but I've figured out what the boys will be doing (NOT TELLING HAHAHAHA) so I'm taking it down.

By the time Louis got Harry up, medicated, showered, and down to wardrobe, the story he'd told Paul had already spread. Which meant all Harry had to do was nod or shrug, sneeze, and look pitiful until whoever was gently questioning him gave him a pat on the back and walked away, smiling sympathetically.  
Louis wasn't so lucky. In the thirty minutes he was trapped in the stylist's chair, he was interrogated three times by different members of management, all asking the same questions in slightly different ways as if trying to catch him in a lie. And, when they weren't successful, leaving in a huff. Louis would have found it amusing if it didn't make him so frustrated.  
The blue-eyed boy was headed to pick out his first change of clothes when Caruthers stopped him and Louis rolled his eyes. “What do you want?”  
“Have you ever heard of The Grove?”  
Louis' eyebrow went up immediately and he shook his head, having absolutely no idea what the man was talking about.  
“I thought you boys might like to see it after the concert tonight. There's supposed to be a musical fountain there.”  
Louis fought hard to keep his expression bored. “Huh. I thought all those were in Las Vegas.” Shit, someone must have posted a video of him and Harry or something. Why else would the man actually be talking to him about this now? “But I'll ask the lads if they want to go. Could be fun.”  
“Could be. Though, it might not be such a good idea if you get sick as well.”  
“Mhmm.” Louis turned away. Now probably wasn't the best time to tell anyone that he felt an ominous scratchiness at the back of his throat. He'd just have to steal some of Harry's cough drops.  
During sound check, Harry's voice cracked three times and the others had to quickly figure out who was going to cover which part in the songs just in case the same happened during the actual concert. Louis lost track of how many times Harry apologized to his band mates or the crew, even though no one actually blamed him for getting sick. How could he have prevented it?  
Luckily, that night's concert went off without a hitch. The crew kept boxes of cough drops in several locations so Harry would always be able to get one quickly. And Louis was able to sneak a few whenever he needed. But by the end of the night, Louis could tell Harry was about to drop from the exhaustion of trying to hide his illness from the crowd.

It was the first time Louis actually didn't hate one of management's decisions. It had been decided that, since their next show was only in a neighboring city, there was no need for the band to drive overnight. Which meant Harry could continue getting over his cold in an actual bed in a private room, not a tiny bunk with numerous others just outside the curtain.  
After showering in the suite he and Zayn were supposed to share, Louis pulled on his night clothes and yawned, heading out the door to Harry's room. Movement caught his eye and he immediately went back inside, closing the door just enough to peek out of. It was Jack, his bodyguard.  
What was he doing wandering up the hallway so late? And, as Louis watched, it seemed like Jack was actually pacing up and down the corridor.  
Louis' phone beeped in his hand and he checked to make sure Jack didn't hear it and come looking.  
It was a text form Harry. “m sleepy. Where r u?”  
Louis smiled and quickly answered. “Jack's in the hall. He'll see me if I go.”  
H - “y?”  
L - “idk. I think he's waiting 4 smthg.”  
H - “what?”  
L - “idk.”  
H - “ask. He's u'r guard.”  
L - “give me a sec.”  
Making sure he had the key to Harry's room, Louis took a deep breath and stepped fully into the hall. “Hey, Jack.”  
“Louis,” the big man greeted. “Why are you out here?”  
“Could ask you the same thing.” Louis walked closer to where the man stood at the end of the hall near the elevators.  
“Got assigned.”  
Louis waited for more but remembered his guard was a man of few words. “By Paul?”  
Jack just shook his head, which Louis took to mean their management was the one to assign a guard to the boys' rooms.  
“You here all night?” And received a nod. “Well, g'night.”  
“Good night, Louis.”  
Louis wandered back down the hall, hoping he looked casual as he swiped the key card and entered the room. He really hoped Jack didn't notice that he went through a door other than the one he left from.  
Harry was already in bed, curled up and watching the door. He looked on curiously as Louis checked through the peep hole to make sure Jack hadn't followed him.  
“What's up,” the younger boy asked.  
“He was assigned to guard us,” Louis muttered, finally leaving the door and crawling into bed.  
“Why?” Harry flipped over and snuggled into Louis.  
“Dunno. Just said he was assigned. And not by Paul.”  
Harry's head raised slightly as he caught Louis' meaning. “Uh oh.”  
“Yeah.” Louis curled his arm under Harry to card his fingers through the curly hair. “I think management knows we sneaked out last night and wants to make sure we don't do it again.”  
Harry's eyes drifted closed now that he could let himself fall asleep. “'M too sleepy to sneak out. Take Niall.”  
Louis laughed. “I'm not sneaking out without you. Go to sleep.” He kissed Harry's forehead and closed his eyes, feeling too sleepy to sneak out himself.  
By the time Louis and Harry were awake the next morning, Jack was gone from his post, so Louis didn't have to sneak back into his assigned room. They all made it to the bus on time and no mention was made by anyone of the extra assigned security duty.  
Louis hoped it wouldn't become standard or sleeping with Harry would become much more difficult.

A week later, Louis was actually wishing that they spent more nights on the bus. It was so much easier to be sneaky in the confined space. All Louis had to do was wait for a moment of silence and then crawl into Harry's bunk. Being in the top bunk only added a measure of security since it was less likely for someone to accidentally pull back the curtains.  
Yes, much easier than having to come up with a different way to get past the guard and into Harry's room each night. Since Harry was shit at lying, it was always Louis having to make the silent dash or give an excuse about needing to talk to Harry about something.  
Until, finally, there was a problem that there was no solution for. Harry's room was at the opposite end of the hall, away from the elevators. And Louis and Zayn's suite was right next to the elevators.  
And the Paddy, Liam's usual shadow, had already heard an excuse from Louis earlier in the week, so they couldn't use that again.  
Louis had no idea what to do. He texted Harry. “Sry, luv. Hafta stay here 2nite.”  
H - “ill come 2 u.”  
A minute later, Louis heard voices in the hallway and assumed it was Harry trying to lie to Paddy. He waited for Harry to knock since he didn't have a key to the suite. Another minute passed before Louis' phone beeped. Harry was calling.  
“Hey. What happened?”  
“Umm...I panicked.” Louis could hear the blush in Harry's voice and laughed.  
“What did you say?”  
“That I needed to stretch my legs. And wanted to say hi.”  
Louis groaned. “Harry!”  
“What? I tried.”  
“I know, love, I know.” Looking over, Louis saw Zayn casually leaning in the doorway of his bedroom, grinning widely at his friends' predicament; Louis stuck out his tongue. “Do you think you'll be okay by yourself tonight?”  
Harry paused on the other end. “Maybe. But it's probably a good thing that I have to. Can't have you next to me forever.”  
“I wish,” Louis admitted.  
“I know.”  
Louis glanced at the door. “Hold on a second, okay? Let me see if I can figure out a way.” He carefully opened the door just a crack and quickly shut it again seeing Paddy start to turn the corner toward him. “Nope, sorry, love.”  
“'sokay. Is it pathetic to say that I miss you even though you're just down the hall and I saw you an hour ago?”  
Louis had to turn away from Zayn because he couldn't stop the grin from splitting his face in half. “No. Only because I'm going to say it right back to you. Miss you, baby,” he whispered low enough for Zayn to miss but so Harry could still hear.  
“Good night, Boo.”  
“G'night, Hazza. And don't even think about not calling if you wake up, okay?”  
“Yes, Daddy.”  
Louis was laughing when he hung up and turned around.  
Zayn grinned and pushed away from his doorway. “Aww! You two! So cute!” he teased.  
Louis snatched a pillow from the sofa next to him and hurled it at his friend. “Shut it, you! Wanna play FIFA?”  
Zayn nodded and flopped down on the sofa. “God, yes. Bored out of my mind!”  
The older boy studied Zayn out of the corner of his eye as he set up the game. Maybe this was a good thing. Harry could test out sleeping by himself and Louis could spend time with his best friend again. It had been ages since they'd just hung out the two of them. And Zayn was probably missing Liam, too, since the guard kept them from switching rooms just as effectively as Louis and Harry.  
Handing one controller to Zayn, he sneered, “Prepare to get slaughtered.”  
“In your dreams, mate.”

Louis was still coming down from his high of beating Zayn in all three games when they decided it was time to sleep. He checked his phone and, seeing no new texts from Harry, resisted the urge to call him. If Harry was actually sleeping, there was no way Louis wanted to wake him up. So he climbed into bed and tried not to pout over the fact that there was no warm body sprawled and ready to curl up against.  
It felt like he'd just closed his eyes when he felt a large hand shaking him awake and when he opened his eyes, “Paddy?”  
“Get up.”  
Louis was immediately wide awake. “What's going on? Did something happen?” His mind jumped to all kinds of scenarios where Paddy would have to wake him up in the middle of the night. None of them were good.  
“Come with me.”  
It wasn't an answer and Louis hurried after the big man, eager to find out what this was about. He followed Paddy into the hall and down the hall, making him wonder why they were moving away from the elevator. But then he heard them.  
Muffled screams coming from Harry's room.  
“Shit.” Pushing past Paddy, Louis rushed to the door and tried to open it, forgetting that he didn't have the key card with him. Paddy reached over his shoulder and swiped the extra he'd been given, letting Louis enter the room.  
The feathery haired boy completely ignored his companion as he jumped on the bed and grabbed Harry, who was clawing desperately at the blankets tangled around his body. He was gentle as he wrapped his arms around the larger boy, shushing him and assuring him that he was safe until Harry's cries softened and finally disappeared. Once Harry was silently sleeping, Louis reached down and carefully untangled the blankets from Harry's legs, allowing him to sprawl out in his normal fashion. Louis hated to think how much tossing and turning Harry had to have done to get them wrapped around him twice.  
It was only after Louis was sure there were no more nightmares in Harry's head at the moment that he remembered Paddy. Looking up, he saw the man standing against the closed door, arms crossed and a thoughtful expression on his face.  
“Why did you come get me?” Louis blurted out, unable to stop himself. Not that he had a problem with it, but he wanted to know why he was Paddy's first choice.  
“Paul told us if something like this happens, you'd be able to handle it. And you were.”  
Louis realized that all the guards were probably up to date on what had happened to Harry. “Should I go back to my room, now?”  
Paddy tried to hide his smile but Louis was quick to catch it. “I'm not here to keep you prisoner, Tomlinson. Management's been monitoring the web and found that the itinerary got leaked so fans know where you're staying each night. The others and I have been assigned to make sure if anyone manages to get past the security downstairs, we can stop them before they get to you. I can't tell you where to sleep.”  
Louis froze as he caught the meaning. “So, you mean...”  
“We're not idiots. And you all are not exactly subtle.”  
“You wouldn't have stopped us?”  
“Did we stop Liam and Zayn?”  
Louis groaned. He felt like such an idiot! “Why didn't you tell us?”  
This time, Paddy didn't stop his grin. “It was fun watching you try to sneak past us. And Harry's not gotten any better at lying, which is quite refreshing, actually.” He paused, looked at Harry's sleeping form, and Louis saw something flash in his eyes. “I didn't know it would cause this, or I would have conveniently left my post for about five minutes after he tried to get past earlier so you could have come. Is it usually this bad?”  
“No. Only when he's alone. Paul knows.”  
“And management?”  
“Refuses to believe.” Louis saw disbelief and then annoyance flash over Paddy's face and wondered if they had another ally in hating their management team.  
The guard turned to leave, but Louis stopped him with one last question. “Have any fans showed up? After the leak?”  
“Not even a single attempt all week.”  
And, with that, Louis was alone with Harry. He laid down, bringing Harry's head to rest on his chest as he carded his fingers through the soft curls and let his mind wander. So, management had lied to the bodyguards about why they needed to stay in the hallway. And he was sure the men were aware of that. Paul didn't care about Harry and Louis sharing a room, giving instructions to get Louis if anything happened. And the others didn't seem to care, either, even when it was obvious they shared a bed as well. Now that he thought about it, even their crew and stylists had been giving him and Harry strange looks lately that could be interpreted as “knowing looks.” Which meant that, other than management, everybody on the tour knew about their relationship.  
And no one seemed to care.  
A thought popped into his head and, instead of immediately abandoning it as idiotic, Louis wondered. But, looking down at the head laying on his chest, he knew it wasn't only his decision to make. Putting the thought away for the moment, he closed his eyes and willed himself to go back to sleep.  
The next morning, Louis woke up to Harry squeezing the breath out of him. “Hey,” he wheezed.  
“How'd you get past Paddy?” Harry asked.  
Louis paused. Did Harry not remember the nightmare? “He actually came and got me. You were screaming.”  
“Oh. Right. I forgot.” Harry kept his arms around Louis and squeezed, gentler this time. “Thanks.”  
“It's what I'm here for,” Louis quipped. “Good morning, by the way.”  
“Morning. Don't wanna get up.”  
“I know. But I have to. I need to go talk to Zayn.” Louis remembered the comment Paddy had made about Liam and Zayn.  
“He's probably still sleeping.”  
“Perfect.” Louis managed to squirm out of Harry's grasp and leaned down to kiss the younger boy. “We're due at wardrobe at ten, remember. So I'll be back by nine thirty to wake you up again.”  
“M'kay.” Harry pulled the blanket up to cover his head and went back to sleep as Louis left the room.  
Paddy was still at his post by the elevator and nodded to Louis as the boy entered his suite. Since it was still early, Zayn hadn't left his bedroom yet, just as Louis hoped. Going for dramatic, he shoved Zayn's bedroom door open hard enough to make it slam into the wall.  
The noise made both boys in the bed sit up, blinking sleepily.  
“You're both wankers, you know that?” Louis said casually as he walked toward the bed. Picking up the pillow Zayn had been using, he attacked, swiping each head several times before Liam was able to wrestle the pillow away.  
“What the hell, man?” Zayn demanded, still trying to wake up fully.  
“Did you two know? About the guards? About everyone?”  
Now that he wouldn't risk getting beaten again, Liam laid back down. “What are you talking about, Lou?”  
“Did you know that I didn't have to sneak into Harry's room? That the guards don't give a damn where we sleep?” Seeing the guilty faces, Louis jumped over Liam and sat on Zayn, demanding, “Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me last night?”  
Liam sighed and pulled Louis down to lay between them, allowing Zayn to breathe again. “We didn't really know. Just thought that it was too easy sometimes. And you always managed to figure out a way to get there, so we didn't see the need to tell you.”  
Louis took a deep breath to ease his frustration. “We couldn't figure it out last night. Paddy had to come get me. Harry was screaming so loud you could hear in him in the hall.”  
“Shit, man. A nightmare? About the attack?” Zayn asked. Louis nodded and Zayn seemed to be working up the nerve for something. “Lou, what exactly happened? It's been months and he's still having nightmares.”  
Louis hesitated and Liam spoke up. “It's just that this seems like more than just getting beat up, and not even seriously since we saw him the next day. If you don't want to tell us, it's okay, but we're worried about him, too. Not being able to sleep alone even for one night doesn't seem healthy.”  
There were several minutes of silence as Louis debated telling them. It wasn't really his place to tell, but he knew the other boys were worried about Harry. Finally, “Yes, it was more than just getting beat up. I won't tell you everything, but it was bad. The men who did it, it wasn't just random. They didn't just see him on the street and decide to beat him. They targeted him. They started throwing eggs at the Uni party and then followed him when he left, chasing him into the alley where they beat him. They threw rocks at him. And then they threw him into a pile of trash and just left him there.”  
He'd been staring up at the ceiling the entire time he was speaking. He didn't want to see the horrified looks that he knew would be on his friends' faces. Knowing the rest, he knew that the expressions were nowhere near as bad as they should be, but he just couldn't continue.  
“Threw eggs? Threw rocks?” was Liam's shocked response, the last word squeaked out he was so appalled. “At our Harry? Why?”  
“I don't know. I don't think Harry knows either.”  
“So that's why...On stage, he always flinches. When a fan throws something. And when one of us grabs him from behind.” Zayn was clearly remembering all of the little signs they'd missed.  
“Yeah.” Louis pushed himself up so he could look at both of his friends. “You can't tell anyone. I shouldn't have told you. But I think you need to know why I'm so careful with him.”  
“Of course,” Liam was quick to assure him. “Not a word.”  
Suddenly needing to see Harry, Louis crawled off the bed. “See you lads at wardrobe.”


	12. Chapter 11 - Don't Forget Where You Belong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't Forget Where You Belong  
>  “If you ever feel alone – don't/  
>  You were never on your own.”

Harry had to admit he liked the fact that Louis was willing to get tattoos, now. It gave them something tangible and permanent to show their feelings for each other. Because his feelings for Louis were only getting stronger the more they were forced apart. He felt a bit smug that management's plan was backfiring and they didn't even know it.  
The next day, they were flying back to the UK, having finished their first worldwide tour in Orlando, and Harry wanted to get something special to commemorate. Liam and Zayn had the same idea so, since Niall flatly refused to mark his perfect skin with ink, the four band mates headed for a tattoo parlor one of their crew recommended.   
Since people were already teasing them about all getting matching tattoos, Harry figured why not?  
“Let's all get the same thing. Something small and in a weird place.” He turned his puppy dog eyes on Louis and then had to laugh when Zayn immediately did the same to Liam. Zayn was just as crazy for tattoos as he was.  
Louis looked at Liam. “We are so screwed, aren't we?” Liam nodded in agreement, trying to keep from smiling as Zayn added a little pout.  
Having flipped through the offered designs, Harry suddenly beamed. “Perfect!”  
“Huh?” Louis asked what the others were thinking.  
“Screws. See?” He pointed to the picture of a tiny screw on one page. “Let's all get screwed!” He burst out laughing at the joke and the others couldn't help joining in.  
Louis wasn't able to deny him. Putting an arm around Harry's waist, he squeezed subtly and asked, “Alright, curly, where should we get screwed?”  
Harry had to bite his lip to keep from making a comment in response and he saw the smirk on Louis' face, knowing what he was thinking. Liam and Zayn were just shaking their heads in exasperation. “I don't know. Somewhere...”  
“Quirky?” Louis finished.  
“Yeah. Not somewhere they'll get lost in all the rest.” He pointed to Zayn's arm where several tattoos were already grouped, just like his own.  
“Ankles.” All four boys turned to look at the artist who had been following the conversation. “Something that small won't hurt much and they'll stand out.”  
“Thanks, mate!” Harry beamed at the man.  
“You are eighteen, aren't you, kid?”  
Harry scowled. Everyone else laughed.  
Liam went into the chair first, so the others set about deciding what others they would get.   
Louis pulled Harry over into a corner for some privacy. “We should get something that shows management they can't win.”  
“Okay,” Harry shrugged. “But how?”  
“I don't know. A quote or something.”  
“Except everyone'll notice if we both show up with the same quote. Not really subtle.”  
“Yeah, well, I've been told we're not very subtle anyway. Why change?”  
Again, a light bulb went off in Harry's head. “I can't change. It's perfect. One gets the words, the other gets the quotes. Like they'll fit together, but aren't matchy matchy.”  
Louis beamed and started to lift up to kiss Harry, but quickly stopped himself. “Perfect. You want the words or the quotes?”  
“I'll get the words. You're still a beginner, after all.” He let his hand glide over Louis' bum as he turned back to see what Zayn decided.  
Since Liam was done, Harry went next, holding his arm out for the tattoo artist to pen the words at the top of his wrist. Louis watched and couldn't keep a small smile off his face as their little rebellion took shape. As soon as Harry's words and screw were done, Louis was sitting down, grinning eagerly, making the others laugh. He really did enjoy getting tattoos, now.

It was as their plane landed at Heathrow that Louis realized they had a problem. He and Harry were each going home to spend time with their families. Separately. He wouldn't be there to keep Harry's nightmares away.   
Harry somewhat unconvincingly assured him that he was sure he'd be fine. He'd been talking to Dr. Marin about the dreams and there were mental exercises the man had told him to do before going to sleep that should keep the dreams away. He just didn't know if they worked yet, because Louis was always there.   
But Louis was still worried when he was dropped at his flat. Seeing that it was just 9 AM, he grabbed his phone and hoped that he wasn't about to make a fool of himself.  
When Dr. Marin's secretary answered, Louis didn't hesitate in lying and claiming to be Harry. He considered himself lucky when she confirmed that the doctor had a free half an hour and put him through.  
“Harry, what can I do for you?” the doctor asked in greeting.  
Louis felt like an idiot. “Um, I'm sorry, but I'm not Harry.”  
“Who is this?” Marin sounded upset and Louis couldn't blame him.  
“This is Louis. I'm Harry's...friend. The one who first contacted you?”  
“Okay, Louis, care to tell me why you called pretending to be your friend?”  
“Well, it's just...I'm worried about him. About how he's doing.”  
“I can't discuss Harry with you, Louis. I'm sorry.”  
“No! No, I know that. I'm glad you won't really,” Louis hurried to explain. “It's just that he still has nightmares if I...if someone's not sleeping in the bed next to him. And we're all going home to our own families, so he won't really have anyone. I just wondered...is there anything I...we can do to make it easier?”  
The doctor was silent for a long while and Louis fidgeted, wondering if he was ever going to talk. “Okay, Louis. Again, I can't tell you anything Harry and I discussed, so I'll just say in general. In general, these kinds of nightmares are triggered by something that reminds the person of the event. It could be a smell or a sound or a feeling.” Louis started wracking his brain trying to think of what might be triggering Harry, but could think of nothing except the fact that he was alone. “It could be something obvious, or something very small that no one else even notices. In general, these nightmares are lessened if the subject has something else that makes them feel safe. Again, a smell or a sound. Something that will combat the trigger in the subconscious.”  
“So,” Louis started slowly, making sure he understood. “If I...we find something that makes Harry feel safe while he's asleep, it might stop the nightmares?”  
“I obviously can't say with certainty, but it is possible. Likely even if that something is strong enough.”  
“But we can try. Thanks, Doctor.”  
“You're welcome, Louis. Next time, if you'd like to talk to me, ask Harry to set up a time, okay?”  
Louis felt himself blush. “Yeah. Sorry.”  
Dr. Marin laughed. “It's okay. Harry's very lucky to have a friend like you, Louis. And don't worry. I promise you that he is getting better. That much I can tell you.”  
A worry that Louis didn't even know he had disappeared. “Thank you.”  
Hanging up, he sat on the sofa and tried to think of something that would make Harry feel safe enough to sleep by himself. Because the trigger had to be feeling alone; nothing else made sense. There wasn't a smell that followed them through the many hotel rooms. And every city sounded different, so it couldn't be a sound.  
But how to make Harry think there was someone – Louis – in the room with him when he really was alone?  
Sighing, he wandered into his bedroom. Maybe giving Harry something that smelled like him would work. Except, at the beginning, even sleeping in Louis' bed, surrounded by his scent hadn't really helped. Though, maybe that was just because the memory was fresh? Louis picked up his spare pillow and started to take it back out to the living room, so he wouldn't forget to take it to Harry's later, when he saw the stupid little button he'd made for Harry all those months ago.  
The one where he recorded a girl's voice screaming “Lou-EEE!”.  
A recording.  
Louis knew exactly how to keep Harry's nightmares away.  
Dropping the pillow, which he would still take as back up, he grabbed his laptop and got to work.

Louis could barely contain his impatience later that night. He and Harry were finally able to go out just the two of them without anyone getting suspicious. Niall had already flown off to Ireland and Liam and Zayn's families had already arrived in London, so no one would expect them to be at dinner with Louis and Harry. Louis had purposely booked his and Harry's trains for the following day just for that reason.  
Well, and because he wanted another night beside the younger boy before they had to separate.  
Harry was trying to hide his grin across the table, no doubt thinking Louis was just happy to be out on a proper date. They'd picked a relatively upscale restaurant and managed to get a booth that was mostly private, so there were no fans coming up to ask for autographs or pictures. And their waitress was a middle-aged woman who had no idea who they were so she just politely took their orders and left them to their own business. It was great.  
“How long will you be gone, again?” Harry asked as he cut into his stuffed chicken.  
“Three days.” Louis had only told him three times since they'd sat down.  
“And absolutely no phones? You can't sneak one?”  
Louis just shook his head. He'd somehow let his sisters convince him to go on a camping trip with them to make up for being gone so long. And one of their rules was he had to be all theirs; no phones, no computers, nothing but campfires and stories and cuddling. “Sorry. Wouldn't put it past them to strip search me just to be sure.”  
“Hmm...strip search,” Harry mused, making Louis laugh with an exaggerated leer and look-over.  
Louis threw a small piece of the steamed broccoli Harry'd guilted him into at the younger boy. “You're a dork.”  
Harry popped the vegetable into his mouth and grinned. “But I'm a cute one.” Louis couldn't do anything but agree.  
“You're going to be fine, Harry,” Louis said soberly, continuing their previous conversation. “Anne, Robin, and Gemma are going to keep you up talking until you're too tired to dream, I'm sure of it. They always do.”  
“Maybe.”  
Louis had to bite his tongue to keep from responding to Harry's subdued tone. He wanted to wait until they were alone in Harry's flat before giving him the present currently hiding in his pocket. “So, are they taking you anywhere or are you just going to laze about Anne's house all week?”  
Harry perked up and went on to describe the plans his family had made to celebrate his return. Louis just sat there eating, content to listen to his boy talk so animatedly.  
After dessert, which Louis insisted on because he'd eaten all of his vegetables, the boys managed to sneak out the back of the restaurant without running into a single photographer or fan. Unfortunately, there were several waiting just outside Harry's flat so the they were forced to stop and chat and play nice for almost half an hour before all of the fans were satisfied and the paps were off to write up whatever story they felt would be believed.  
Finally inside, they were quick to change into clothes more suitable for cuddling in front of the TV.   
“How long before someone notices I was carrying a pillow and makes a big deal about it?” Louis wondered out loud as he pulled on a t-shirt. He heard Harry's laugh through the open bathroom door; a huge step in Louis' mind toward Harry being comfortable with his body again.  
“Check Twitter.”  
Pulling out his phone, Louis couldn't hold back his laugh. Sure, there were the original tweets from the fans, but the most recent picture being commented on was an enlarged shot of him holding the pillow behind his back in on of the fan shots. He hadn't even been trying to hide it, just keep it out of the way, but everyone was sure he was trying to be sneaky.  
Scrolling through the comments, his mind turned thoughtful. There were mostly tweets from girls going crazy with excitement about this newest “proof” that Louis and Harry were together. And very few rude or hateful comments.  
He looked up as Harry left the bathroom and almost brought up what he was thinking before second-guessing himself. “You're right. They're already going on about how we're sleeping together.”  
“Well, we are, technically,” Harry said, leading the way into the living room and sprawling on the couch.  
Louis curled up at his side and decided it was time. “Got a present for you, curly.”  
Harry looked over eagerly. “Yeah? Why?”  
“'Cause I love you.” Louis froze just slightly because it was the first time either of them had said those words and he hadn't even been planning to. But, apparently, Harry was too focused on the hand digging the small SD card out of Louis' pocket to have noticed. Louis let out a little sigh, but didn't honestly know if it was from relief or disappointment.  
“What is it?” Harry asked, taking the card and looking it over.  
“A storage device,” Louis responded, tongue-in-cheek.  
Harry just gave him a playful glare. “I meant, what's on it?”  
“Your present.” Louis was enjoying himself. “Plug it into your laptop.”  
The younger boy rushed to get his computer and Louis brought his knees up to hug against his chest. Would Harry understand what the present meant? Should he confess about his conversation with Dr. Marin?  
Harry was back on the couch and plugging the card in before Louis could make up his mind. And it was too late to turn back, anyway.   
The curly-haired boy was humming happily under his breath as he waited for the content to load, glancing over at Louis confused when it showed that the only file on the device was an audio track. Louis just motioned him to play it.  
Harry's jaw dropped as Louis' voice came gently out of the speakers. “What is this?” he breathed.  
“It's me making sure you don't have nightmares when I can't be with you,” Louis said gently. The track was nothing but him softly shushing and telling Harry that everything was going to be okay, that he was safe, now. “This is what I do whenever you have a nightmare so, since I won't be able to do it in person, this will have to do. Doctor Marin says that these nightmares might be triggered because you feel all alone. So, start this playing before you go to sleep and maybe your subconscious won't feel alone. It's about ten minutes long, so just put it on repeat.”  
“Doctor Marin?”  
Louis quickly continued. “He didn't tell me anything about what you've talk about, Harry, I promise. I wouldn't ask about that kind of thing. I just asked him for a suggestion on how to help you. He only said to figure out a way to make you feel safe and this is what I came up with. Don't think that he betrayed your confidence or anything, okay?”  
Harry nodded, stunned speechless as he continued to listen to the track playing. He didn't know what to think. Considering that he knew Louis hadn't spoken to Dr. Marin the day before since the doctor would have mentioned it the previous night during their session, Louis had to have done all of this after arriving back in the UK. Which meant, instead of relaxing on their first day of rest after the tour, the older boy had been so worried about Harry that he called Dr. Marin, tried to think of a way to help, and then spent at least a couple of hours figuring out how to make this present for him. And he believed Louis when he said the doctor hadn't told him anything else.  
How was a simple “Thank you” enough?  
Looking over at Louis, he saw the boy gripping nervously at his sleep pants and biting his bottom lip like he was still waiting for some kind of response. And Harry remembered the words he'd heard when Louis have him the SD card – had it really only been minutes before?  
Reaching out, he gently thumbed Louis' lip from between his teeth. “I love it. I love you.” And he leaned over to try to let his feelings bleed through the kiss he pressed to Louis' lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, apparently, a day-long train ride and a new apartment with no Internet access are the perfect recipe for writing because this story is now completed. I'll be posting the rest of it over the next few days.   
> As always, feel free to comment.  
> All mistakes are my own.


	13. Chapter 12 - Better Than Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Better Than Words  
>  “I don't know how else to sum it up/  
>  Cause words ain't good enough/  
>  I can't explain your love.”

Harry tried to keep himself distracted talking and catching up with his friends and family back home. Not because of the nightmares. No, Louis' gift actually helped keep those at bay.  
Instead, harry had to stay distracted so he didn't stare at the clock, counting down the hours until Louis returned from the wilderness. Three days could stretch into an eternity, he'd discovered.   
Why hadn't he asked to join in on the camping trip? he wondered, laying in bed. Sighing, he rolled over and pressed play on his laptop so the recording would start. He knew why. Louis needed the time alone with his sisters, just like Harry needed the time alone with his family. And how pathetic would he be, admitting he couldn't spend three days away from his boyfriend?  
Letting Louis' voice wash over him, he closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep, snuggling Louis' pillow to his chest. Tomorrow was the last day.  
Harry found himself being shaken awake a few hours later, his mother's concerned face hovering over him. He looked over, confused when he saw Robin in the doorway, holding a cricket bat.  
“Huh?”  
“You were screaming, Harry. It sounded like you were being attacked,” Anne said, waving Robin away as she sat on the edge of Harry's bed.  
Harry sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and wondering why the nightmare had come after five days of nothing. The laptop screen had gone dark and, when Harry brought it back to life, he groaned. Somehow, the track hadn't been set to repeat. So it had only played a few minutes right as Harry was first getting to sleep.  
Anne reached over, reminding Harry she was there, and pressed play. When she heard the words coming through in Louis' voice, she looked at her son. “What is this, Harry?”  
“Nothing,” he mumbled, embarrassed.  
“And that's a load of dung. I wake up to my son screaming 'No!' over and over, and now I find a recording of one of your friends said again and again that 'you're safe' and 'no one will hurt you.' In the softest voice I've ever heard Louis use. That is not nothing. What is this, Harry?” she asked again.  
Harry fell back to his pillow with a groan.  
“I'm not going away until you've explained this to me properly,” Anne warned.  
Knowing he had no choice, Harry sat up again and pulled his knees up to his chest. “Remember when I was sick right before tour?” She nodded. “I wasn't really sick.” And he felt horrible for letting Louis and the others lie for him so she would actually believe it.  
“Then why couldn't I come visit?” She didn't understand what this had to do with anything.  
“I was healing. The night I caused all that fuss going to Jen's party, I got attacked.” He hurried to reassure her when his mum gasped in horror. And he lied, hoping she wouldn't see through it for once in his life. “It was these stupid drunk guys who were jealous. They cornered me and beat me up a little. That's all. But I hurt my ankle trying to get away.” He put an arm around her when he buried her face in her hands.  
“Why didn't you tell me?” she cried.  
“Because I didn't want you to freak out like this. Management said we needed to keep it quiet because we didn't need that kind of press right before the tour started. The public shouldn't find out.”  
Anne hissed. “I am not the public. I am your mother! I should have been contacted the moment you were put into hospital!”  
“I'm sorry, Mum. Really. I should have told you.”  
“Yes, you should have.” She looked at the laptop where Louis' voice was still playing. “What about this?”  
Harry shrugged. He wasn't sure how to explain completely without telling her about his relationship with Louis. And he wasn't sure he was ready for that. “I stayed at Louis' until my ankle healed, so the press wouldn't find me. I had a few nightmares while I was there and he helped me get back to sleep sometimes. He made this tape just in case I need it.” There, not a single lie for her to detect.  
“It's been months, Harry, and you're still having nightmares this bad? That's not healthy. Do you need to talk to someone?”  
Harry sighed. He should have known he'd never get away with a simple explanation. “I am talking to someone, Mum.”  
“Not Louis, honey. I know he cared about you a lot, but you might need a professional for this.”  
He laughed a little at her automatic assumption. “Not Louis. I'm talking to a real doctor. Really. Louis helped me find one that I could talk to over the phone or Skype while we were on tour. And it's helping, Mum. It really is. I can almost sleep alone without–” He clamped his mouth shut, eyes wide with horror; that wasn't supposed to have slipped out.  
And he couldn't hope she'd missed it because she tensed next to him.  
“Almost sleep alone?” she repeated slowly. “What does that mean? Who had been sleeping in your bed with you?” Harry could practically see the pieces fitting together in her mind. She gasped. “Louis? Have you been sharing a bed with Louis all these months?” she demanded; Harry bit his lip. “Harry, honey, this is not healthy. This is not in any way healthy. I know he's your best friend. I know you've gotten close over these last two years. But this is...” She didn't know what this was.  
Harry snapped. He couldn't let his mum think bad things about him. Or Louis. “Why is it not healthy to share a bed with my boyfriend?”  
Anne turned slowly. “Boyfriend? Louis–”  
“Is my boyfriend. Yes.” He waited for some kind of reaction. An explosion. Horror. Laughter. Disbelief. Anything. All he got was a soft “Oh.”  
“Mum?” Harry asked cautiously.  
Anne's eyes were slightly dazed as she smiled at him. “I'm going back to bed, honey. We'll discuss this in the morning. You try to get some sleep, too. Play your tape.” She pushed back his fringe, kissed him on the forehead, and left the room.  
Harry stared after her, slack-jawed and slightly frightened.  
The next morning, Harry found his mum waiting for him at the breakfast table. She smiled at him as he slowly sat across from her, wondering what was about to happen.  
“Did you have any more dreams last night, honey?” she asked.  
“Uh, no. Not really.” Not at all since he made sure the recording was on repeat.  
“That's wonderful.” Anne folded her hands on the table. “I sent Robin and Gem away so we can talk, Harry.”  
“Um, about what?” Harry attempted, but she just quirked her lips.  
“How long, Harry?”  
He knew she wasn't asking how long he'd been attracted to makes. She'd been the first one he told when he realized he liked both girls and boys. So she had to be asking about Louis. He had to think back for the exact time.  
“The break before we went to America. Officially.”  
“Officially?”  
“Apparently some people thought we were together before that.”  
“I see. And who made the first move, Harry? You or Louis?”  
“Why does that matter?” Harry wondered.  
“I would like to know.”  
“Why?” he asked again. Why was his mum acting so weird? Her voice was much too calmly sweet.  
“I'd like to know if I need to kill that boy for taking advantage of you.”  
Harry choked on the air. “What?”  
“You told me last night. You've been having horrible nightmares, unable to sleep by yourself. If Louis Tomlinson used that as an excuse to get you to feel grateful to him, dependent on him so much that you agreed to start dating him just to be able to sleep, I will kill him. It's the equivalent of forcing you, in my mind. Raping you.”  
Harry blanched. “No! Mum, no! He would never!” The thought that his mum could think Louis capable of that horrified him. He couldn't stand it; not after Louis had helped him so much after...  
Moving around the table so he could crouch next to her, he took her icy hands and looked her straight in the eye. “Louis would never do anything like that. He would never hurt me,” he insisted gently, begging her to believe him. “I'm the one who made the first move. I asked him to go out with me.”  
He told her about that one day when they'd gone to the cinema and then Harry had gone to dinner with the others. He told her about how Louis had liked him, but kept quiet for so long. “I realized that I liked him, too. That we were more than just best friends. And I realized we'd been more for a long time, I just never had a reason to really pay attention. I love him, Mum. And he loves me. Please, don't think anyone took advantage of anyone else. It's just not true. It's all mutual.”  
Anne had tears in her eyes as she smiled down at him. “My baby's all grown up,” she sniffled. Harry sighed in relief; she believed him. “And he's in love.” Reaching for a napkin, she blew her nose. “I'm sorry, Harry. The way I reacted. It's just, you're so innocent, still. And Louis' so much older than you. I had to be sure.”  
“Only two years,” Harry muttered, pushing to his feet. “And I'm not innocent!” he huffed.  
His mum giggled. “Just don't tell me about that.”  
“Mum!” he cried, horrified. “That's not what I meant. We haven't even had sex!”  
“I said not to tell me about that!”

Louis fidgeted in his seat.  
All five boys and their parents had decided to meet in London at the end of their short holiday to catch up with one another. His mum and Harry's had grown particularly close since The X-Factor and were now good friends.   
But Anne was staring at him. In a way that made him feel very uncomfortable.  
What had happened?  
There hadn't been any time to talk to Harry before they all sat down and Anne made sure they weren't sitting together like they'd started to.  
Something had definitely happened.  
Louis toyed with his fork and tried to catch Harry's eye while avoiding Anne's. Which proved impossible and had Louis' gaze dropping again and again to his roasted chicken.  
“What's up with Harry's mum?” Zayn suddenly whispered in his ear. “She mad at you for something?”  
“Dunno,” Louis whispered back, eyes darting to find that she was still staring. “Haven't done anything.”  
“Except date her son.”  
Zayn went back to his meal and chatting with Liam's parents while Louis froze.  
“Are you okay, Boo?” Jay asked from his other side. “You're awfully quiet, tonight.”  
“Yes, Louis. Is there something on your mind?” Anne asked innocently.  
“Uh, no. Just don't really feel like talking is all.” His eyes moved to Harry and away quickly.   
Why wasn't Harry looking at him?  
What happened?

Harry couldn't say he was surprised when, a minute after his taxi arrived and his mum left, Louis walked in. Rolling up a bag of crisps, he asked, “What, did you hide in the shrubs until you saw her leave?” He laughed when he saw a slight blush cover Louis' cheeks. “Why didn't you just come in? We weren't discussing State secrets or anything.”  
Louis perched on a stool. “I don't know. After dinner, didn't seem like I'd be welcomed. Did something happen while you were home?”  
Harry stopped straightening up and leaned against the counter. “I told her we're dating, actually.”  
Blue eyes widened in shock; Louis hadn't expected that. “And what? How did she react? Did she demand we break up? Is that why she acts like she hates me, now?”  
Unable to resist, Harry started toying with the bag and didn't look at Louis. “Well, actually, yeah.”  
Peeking up and seeing the absolute devastation written clearly on Louis' face, he rushed over and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. “Joke! It's a joke. I'm sorry. That was supposed to be a joke. A really, really bad joke!”  
Louis groaned and clutched at Harry's shirt. “That's was horrible, Harold. I can't believe you did that to me!”  
“Sorry,” Harry said again, gently stroking the other boy's back.  
Louis pulled away slightly. “So, what did she really say?” he asked nervously.  
“She did demand that we break up, at first.” Harry smiled gently. “But that was because she thought older, mature you had taken advantage of young, innocent me. I set her straight. Told her I maturely asked you out and you gave in innocently.” He joined in on Louis' laughter and took them both into the other room so they weren't having the conversation standing in his kitchen.  
“I didn't think you'd tell her for a while, yet,” Louis admitted, tucking his legs under him as he sat on the couch. “I should have been there.”  
Harry sat next to him and pulled him against his side. “Didn't really plan to. I had a nightmare; forgot to start your gift before I fell asleep. Mum and Robin came rushing in, thinking there was an intruder. Robin had our old cricket bat to fight the guy off,” he laughed, because it was funny after it all finished. “Anyway, Mum demanded to know about everything: the nightmares, the recording you made. I let it slip that it's hard to sleep alone and you and I share a bed.”   
Louis groaned and hid his face in Harry's shoulder.  
“Yeah. She said it wasn't healthy and that I needed professional help since, though you care about me a lot, you're just my friend.” Harry paused. “That's when the whole boyfriend thing slipped out. I thought it might calm her down but she just freaked out more. Started accusing you of taking advantage of the fact that I felt grateful or dependent on you for helping with the dreams. Said it was as bad as you forcing me to date you.” He refused to tell Louis the other term she used.  
Shrugging, he continued. “Like I said, I told her what was really going on. That I'm taking advantage of your innocent feelings for me just so I can get a decent night's sleep.”  
Louis snorted. “Oh, so you're the mature one in this relationship and I'm the innocent. Is that what you told her?”  
“Yep.”  
“And she actually believed you? You, mature?”  
Harry scowled and squeezed him gently in punishment. “And I told her we love each other.”  
“Ah. That would do it.” Louis sighed, finally relaxing. “What about tonight? If she's okay with this, why'd she act like that?”  
“'Cause she's my mum and you're my first real relationship, girl or boy,” Harry answered simply. “How come yours isn't acting like that?”  
“Because I told her months ago and she's known about my feelings from the beginning.”  
“Oh. Smart.”  
Louis laughed and turned to straddle Harry's lap. “Yeah. So, how about I take advantage of your youthful innocence?”  
“I think I can protect myself against a mature, older you,” Harry laughed just before Louis' lips connected with his.

As they lay in Harry's bed later that night, Louis finally worked up the courage. “Curly, you awake?”  
“Mhmm,” came the sleepy reply.  
“So, your family – your mum, at least – knows about us and are okay. My family knows and are okay. The lads know and are okay. Paul and the rest of security, apparently even the rest of the crew. They know and don't care.” He picked nervously at the blanket.  
“Lou?” Harry prompted.  
“Everyone we care about knows, so why are we keeping us a secret?” he demanded, flipping over so he could prop his chin on Harry's chest.  
Harry was silent for a while. “Because you're dating Eleanor,” he said finally.  
And got a snort. “That's not a reason, Harry. I don't want to be dating her, so she's no problem. Try again.”  
“Because the fans'll freak out and stop being our fans.”  
“Beep! Wrong answer number two!” Louis moved completely on top of Harry. “You follow Twitter and Tumblr just as much as the rest of us. Fans have always loved Larry Stylinson. Care for a third try?”  
“Management'll terminate our contracts, sue the pants off us, and the media'll have a field day ripping us apart.  
Louis was silent. There was no way to argue that. “I don't like keeping this a secret,” he grumbled. “Like it's wrong or something.”  
Harry brought a hand up to card through the feathery hair. “I know, Boo. I don't either. But we don't have a choice. Not really. Try to sleep. Maybe it'll all look better in the morning.”  
“Maybe.” But he didn't think so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to comment, critique, whatever.  
> Mistakes are my own.


	14. Chapter 13 - She's Not Afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's Not Afraid  
>  “What about all the things we say/  
>  Talkin' on the phone so late/  
>  I can't let her get away from me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just gonna get it out there. This is fiction. I don't know what any of the legalities are. This is completely my imagination.

Louis was right. Morning light didn't make everything better. Not when he had to sit and watch as the woman interviewing them flirted with Harry to the point of forcing the other boys to move so she could sit next to him.  
And Harry. Sweet, charming, oblivious Harry didn't shove her away like Louis so desperately wished he would.  
So Louis ramped up the sass.  
“You must be missing the tour. All those new places to see, the sold-out audiences screaming, girls throwing themselves at you,” the woman was saying, staring at Harry though she addressed all five band mates.  
“Oh, I wouldn't say that,” Louis said before anyone else had a chance. “Traveling to new places was amazing, yeah. But having people, fans, hanging all over us all the time can be rough. We're just normal boys, after all.”  
“Most normal boys would love all the attention, I would think.” She didn't get the hint to stop hanging all over Harry, actually sliding a bit closer.  
Zayn subtly squeezed Louis' shoulder from where his arm was casually draped over the back of the couch they shared, even as he smiled at the woman politely. “I think all Louis is trying to say is that, when we wanted to do a bit of sightseeing, like we tried to do in America, having a crowd following us through the streets is a bit distracting. Remember, Niall, when–”  
“Actually, no,” Louis interrupted, ignoring the furiously waving Caruthers off to the side. “What I'm saying is that girls, woman even, coming up to us on the street, thinking they have a chance of being romantically linked to us is ridiculous. Zayn, Liam, and I are in long-term relationship. Harry's only just broken off a relationship. Niall's the only one currently available.”  
Finally, she moved away. Just a few inches, but Harry wasn't being smothered by her anymore.  
“I see.” The woman was obviously flustered, glancing at the camera. “Well, Niall, I believe you were about to tell us...” she tried to lead the interview back to a previous topic and they all followed awkwardly.  
“What the hell was that?” Caruthers exploded the moment the interviewer and her crew were gone. “How dare you be so rude!”  
“She was practically sitting on Harry! I'm surprised he could breathe!” Louis yelled back.  
“She was being a little inappropriate,” Liam put in, trying to help.  
Caruthers turned to Harry. “Do you agree? Was she bothering you?”  
“A bit,” Harry said, eying Louis cautiously.  
The man spun back at Louis. “That still doesn't give you the right. Harry would have spoken up if it became too much.”  
Louis had to bite his tongue. Because, no, Harry wouldn't've. He was too polite.   
And he didn't seem to care as much, Louis thought, feeling a little betrayed.

After that, it felt like, at every interview or appearance, Louis was having to hold more of himself back. If he didn't, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop from outing them. He smiled and laughed and suppressed the jealousy that boiled up when, though he wasn't allowed within touching distance of Harry, the other three lads were always joking with the younger boy, giving him little teasing nudges or friendly pats.  
And it didn't make him any happier when the few scowls caught on camera added to the story that he and Harry were no longer good friends, much to Caruthers' pleasure.  
Weeks passed.  
Large, rebellious tattoos were gotten.  
The colorful trousers and braces were replaced with band shirts and a scruffy start of a beard.  
The careful quiff was gone to messy spikes under a beanie.  
Fans loved it.  
Friends and family worried.

Harry didn't know what to do. The boy he loved seemed to be spirally down so fast. And he had no idea how to stop it.  
So he called for help. “Mum.”  
“Hi, honey, how are you?”  
“'M okay. Can I talk to you?”  
“Of course. About anything.”  
Harry sighed and just said, “It's Louis.”  
“Has it gotten worse?” Anne asked. They'd all noticed the changes.  
“I think he nearly punched a pap, today. They think I'm dating some blonde from a party I went to.” Harry dropped down on his bed.  
“What did you say?”  
“Nothing. Just got Louis away from there.”  
The phone was silent for a second. “Where is Louis, now?”  
“At his flat. With Liam and Zayn. Something about a FIFA tournament.”  
“Okay. Honey, I need you to be honest with me. Can you do that?”  
Harry nodded and then remembered she couldn't see him. “Yeah.”  
“You love Louis, right?”  
“Of course.”  
“And you want to be with him.”  
“Always.”  
Anne sighed. “Have you talked to him? About what's happening?”  
“Yeah,” Harry said miserably. “He wants to tell management about us. Come out to the fans.”  
“And?”  
“Mum, I can't.” Harry rubbed at the tension just behind his eyes. “It'll ruin everything.”   
“What will it ruin, Harry? Tell me what you think it'll ruin.”  
Harry sat up. “It'll ruin the band. They'll say we broke our contracts; the image clauses or something. They'll sue us for everything. Take everything away. How is that fair to Liam and Zayn and Niall?”  
“Okay. I understand. What else will it ruin?”  
“It'll ruin our images in the press. They'll crucify us.”  
“Anything else?” Anne prompted.  
Harry thought. “No.”  
“Then I'm going to ask, when did my little boy start caring about what the press said about him? You haven't cared about being called a callous womanizer. You haven't cared about being linked with woman twice your age. Now you care about being linked to Louis?”  
Harry opened his mouth to argue but then snapped it shut. Shit. “But what if all the attention ruins our relationship?” he asked.  
“I think you have to ask yourself if you think your relationship, your feelings for Louis and his for you, are strong enough to make it through. Don't answer that right now. Think about it.”  
“Okay.”  
“And, honey, I know you want to be fair and are worried about how everything will effect your friends, but think about how all of this is effecting Louis, too.”  
“Yeah.” Harry hung up and lay down.   
Pulling the pillow Louis used to his chest, he thought.

Louis let himself and Harry into his flat a week later. All he wanted to do was curl up on the couch with his boyfriend, who had been unusually quiet lately, and lose himself in movies. He was so tired. The photo shoot had been painfully long.  
So he wasn't entirely pleased to find their mothers waiting for them on the couch. “Mum. Anne,” he greeted.  
Jay rose to give him a hug as Anne did the same with Harry. “Hi, Boo. I'm sorry we just showed up like this, but we need to talk to you boys.”  
Giving Anne an awkward one-armed hug, Louis looked at his mum. “About what?”  
“Let's sit down.”  
The boys shared a glance; this didn't seem good. So they sat pressed side-by-side in the chair as their parents took the couch.  
“Is everything okay?” Harry asked, holding Louis' hand in his own.  
“Well, it could be.” Anne looked at Jay. “Do you want to start?”  
“Sure.” Jay leaned forward seriously. “Louis, I know you're growing up, but this has gotten a little scary,” she said, motioning to the tattoos visible due to his rolled up sleeves. “And I understand why you're doing it; I really do.” She smiled a little when Louis fidgeted, embarrassed. “So Anne and I decided to do something to help.”  
“What do you mean?”  
Anne spoke up. “Harry called about a week ago. He mentioned that you wanted to tell your management about your relationship but were afraid of the consequences.”  
Louis looked over at Harry and saw a guilty look on his face. “He did, huh? Why didn't you tell me, Harry?”  
Harry glance at the women. “Uh, give us a sec.” He pulled Louis up from the chair and into the bedroom.”  
“Well?” Louis demanded, a fist on one cocked hip. “You talked to our mums instead of me?”  
“Just mine. I guess she went to Jay.” Harry paced away and spun back. “I didn't know what to do. I needed help.”  
“Okay.”  
Harry stopped moving. “What?”  
“Okay. Did you figure anything out?” Louis sat on the bed and put his face in his hands. “God knows I can't figure anything out.”   
Hearing the dejection in his love's voice, Harry's heart broke. He should have said something sooner. Kneeling, he gently raised Louis' chin to look at him, hating the tears swimming in those blue eyes. “I did, actually. I figured out I was being selfish. I was putting everything that doesn't really matter ahead of you. And I was scared.”  
“What are you talking about? Scared of what?” Louis asked, wiping away the single tear that escaped.  
“Scared of this. Us. I'm eighteen, Louis. I'm not supposed to love anyone this much already.” He grinned when Louis' eyes went wide. “Yeah. So I tried to use management and the press' reaction to give me a little time to get used to it. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out because I could see you were hurting. But I didn't know what to do.”  
Louis suddenly threw his arms around Harry's neck. “You're an idiot!”  
“Hey!” Harry squawked. “I'm trying to be serious, here.”  
“I know. You're being a serious idiot,” Louis laughed. “But so was I.”  
“What do you mean, Boo?”  
“I thought you didn't care. I thought maybe you weren't pushing because you were rethinking being with me but were just being too nice to actually break it off. I thought you were afraid that, if anyone found out, you wouldn't be able to break it off.” He pulled back to grin in Harry's face. “See? We're both a pair of big idiots.”  
Harry laughed, pulling Louis back tightly.   
Eventually, Louis lifted his head from where it rested on Harry's shoulder as they talked quietly. “Oops. Our mums are waiting.”  
“Oh, right. Guess we should go back out.”  
Without taking their arms from around each other, they managed to stand up and leave the bedroom. Harry tugged Louis to sit across him on the chair and lean against his chest.  
“You boys get things settled?” Jay asked, grinning. Just the body language she was seeing was a huge improvement.  
“Yeah. Did you have anything else to talk about?” Louis wondered. The women were watching them intently.  
“Actually, we do. And we think you'll like it.”  
“Okay.”  
Anne cleared her throat and pulled out a file folder. “We found a solution to your problem.”  
“Which problem?” Harry asked.  
“Your contract.”  
Louis' head snapped up from Harry's shoulder as they both stared. “What?” He leaned forward so far Harry wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him from falling.  
“After Harry called me, I called Jay. We don't like the way your management is treating you boys. So we looked at your contract.”  
“Sorry, Mum, but no way you understood the contract enough to find anything,” Harry pointed out, making her blush.   
“Actually, you're right. Neither of us did. But we weren't just going to give up. You're our babies and we want you happy.”  
Harry sighed and shared an eye roll with Louis. “Okay. What did you do?”  
“We talked to a lawyer. A good one. We told him what was happening and he said he'd try to figure something out. He called me this morning.”  
“And?” Louis prompted.  
“Harry was right. You can't come out publicly without breaking your contract. The image clauses are written to tightly.”  
Harry sighed and felt Louis slump defeated against him. “So we're stuck. Another year at least.”  
“Not if you handle it correctly.”  
Louis tensed and slowly turned to his mum, who had let Anne talk until now. “What do you mean, handle it correctly?”  
“It means you can't just announce that you're gay and a couple. Or even that one of you is gay. However, the contract can't possibly hold you accountable if a completely separate third party were to tell the world.”  
“A separate third party,” Harry echoed, not understanding.  
“Yes. Not you, or your friends, or your family. Someone with no close connection with you. After that, once the world is screaming for a response from you, unless your management is completely inept, you should be able to confirm. And officially be out.”  
Louis looked at Harry. “No close connection. Who doesn't have a close connection to us who could say something and have it be believed?” he asked.  
“Nick could do it,” Harry laughed, smothering it when Louis scowled at the mention of his friend.  
“No, I'm afraid even Nick might be too close to get around the contract,” Anne said. “They might think you asked him to do it.”  
“Except, we're going to have to ask anyway, aren't we?”  
Louis felt a little nervous when his mum looked at Anne and they grinned wickedly. And felt dread when his mum said, “We already know exactly what to do. And we talked to the other parents to help, too.”  
“We're doomed,” Harry muttered, clutching Louis to his chest. “They're ganging up.”  
The mention of the other parents reminded Louis of something. “Wait, we can't. Not yet.”  
“What do you mean, Boo? Why not?” Jay asked.  
“We have to talk to the lads, first. If this goes bad,d it probably will, they're in as much trouble as us.”  
Harry shifted Louis slightly to get his mobile out. “Give us a couple hours to break the news?” he asked their mothers.  
They nodded and stood to let themselves out. “We'll get food for the big strategy session,” Jay smiled, bending to kiss both boys' cheeks.  
Twenty minutes later, Liam, Zayn, and Niall were sitting on Louis' couch.   
“What's this about?” Liam asked.  
“Yeah, do you know why all of our parents are all suddenly trying to figure out how to work YouTube and set up Tumblr accounts all at the same time?” Niall wondered. “Didn't think me mum even knew what they were and now she's been texting me all day.”  
“Ours, too.” Zayn narrowed his eyes at Louis and Harry. “Is something about to happen?”  
Harry pulled at his bottom lip. “Kinda, yeah. They're all helping Louis' mum and mine.”  
“Oh, very informative, curly,” Louis laughed. He looked over at his friends a bit guiltily. “I guess you've noticed I haven't been handling things well.”  
“Understatement, mate,” Zayn rolled his eyes.  
“Well, our mums figured out a way to get around the contract. To help me and Harry announce our relationship. Without killing our careers, hopefully.”  
Niall sprang from the couch and pounced on his friends. “That's great! How? When? What are they doing?”  
“Same questions from us,” Liam said, throwing an arm around Zayn's shoulders.  
“Uh, well, we're not really sure.” Harry admitted. “We told our mums to wait while we warned you lads. Since you're all in this, too. Do you have a problem with this?” He really didn't want them to be mad.  
Zayn and Liam looked at each other, having a silent conversation with little nods and lifted eyebrows. “They're sure this won't come back at you? Us? Break the contract?” Liam needed to confirm.  
“Mum talked to a lawyer. They said that, if it's someone we don't have a connection with, and we don't do anything to make management suspicious–”  
“Like walking down the street holding hands or snogging in an interview,” Harry interjected.  
“Then the contract won't technically be broken,” Louis finished.  
“Then, how does this mean you can come out?” Niall wondered.  
“Hopefully, management will let us confirm after everyone already knows.”  
“Then we're behind you two. All the way,” Liam said soberly.  
“Let's do this thing!” Niall shot his arm into the air. “What are we doing, anyway?”  
The other four friends laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to comment, critique, whatever.  
> Any mistakes are my own.


	15. Chapter 14 - Over Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over Again  
>  “Whether we're together or apart/  
>  We can both remove the masks/  
>  And admit we regret it from the start.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is all out of my imagination.

“Apparently, your management is completely inept,” Anne said dryly as she and Jay took Louis and Harry to dinner two weeks later.  
After telling their friends about the plan to come out, they'd all sat down to figure out exactly the best way. With three sets of parents on speaker-phone to avoid being suspicious with everyone meeting at Louis' flat, they spent hours debating.   
Louis admitted to him and Harry sneaking out that time in LA, so he told them he thought there might be a video of the two of them singing and dancing together.   
Liam's dad had told them, very uncomfortably, about the many Tumblr accounts he'd found devoted to proving Louis and Harry were together. He'd been unable to resist teasing his son about the accounts showing Liam and Zayn as a couple. And had them all laughing when he mentioned the one he'd found pairing Niall with every single one of the others, all at the same time.  
Niall's mum apparently proved quite proficient with all of the social media and had even set up anonymous accounts of her own on every platform, using a local pub's free wi-fi to make sure no one could track it back to her. Though, really, she asked, who would look all the way over in Ireland for the source?  
Using her accounts, and making sure to only update in public places, they slowly leaked information about the boys. They found the fountain video and, after completely embarrassing Harry and Louis about how cute they were, also found pictures from earlier in the night to match their outfits as proof that it was them. They flooded Twitter with messages from many different accounts. Candid photos of Harry and Louis, secretly taken by the other boys over the months were leaked to Tumblr. Old concert footage was edited together to show all of the little signs together.  
Within days, tabloids in different countries were running the story, finding their own evidence. Though, not in the UK. Everything was silent there.  
Caruthers' hair was constantly mussed from him pulling at it. The boys would watch him pacing a hallway outside their studio, yelling into his phone, “Deny! Deny, deny, deny everything!” And one time, “I don't care if they claim to have video footage of Harry Styles telling a fan specifically that he and Louis are dating. Threaten to sue! Deny! Anything!”  
“What footage is that?” Harry had asked quietly, carefully shutting the door. He didn't remember that.  
Louis had laughed. “Probably lied to get some kind of reaction. I think it's working.”  
But it wasn't. Without asking him, Harry was officially romantically linked to an unknown starlet from America. And Louis was forced onto a plane for a weekend ski trip with Eleanor.  
All trying to combat the stories.  
“What do we do, now?” Louis whined as little as they were shown to a private booth and placed their orders. “We've done everything but shout it from the rooftops.”  
Jay reached over and patted his hands. “We talked to the lawyer again. This time, the image clauses will actually work for you.”  
“How exactly does that work?” he demanded, frustrated. Harry laid a hand on the back of his neck, gently massaging.  
“It's their job to promote your image to the best benefit of the band, yes?” Louis nodded. “Well, there is very little negativity backing all of the fuss. And weren't you just told that your merchandizing numbers have taken a jump in the last two weeks?” Another nod. “So there is absolutely no proof that you two coming out officially will in any way hurt the band. And there is proof that keeping you 'in the closet' so to speak, is harmful to you personally.”  
Louis' eyes narrowed. “What proof is that?”  
Harry cleared his throat nervously. “I'm still talking to Doctor Marin, remember?”  
“Yeah,” Louis said slowly. Harry's nightmares had decreased significantly, finally allowing him to sleep without either Louis physically next to him or the recording of Louis' voice playing, but the younger boy found that his weekly chats with the doctor soothed his mind about other things, as well.   
Their food came before Harry could go on.  
“Um. I might possibly have mentioned our situation to him,” he admitted. “Since I was so stressed about it, you know? I told him you weren't dealing so well with everything. Sorry, love.”  
Louis tried to beat down the embarrassment. “What did he say?”  
“That's it's actually normal to rebel like you did,” Harry assured him. “Since it wasn't your choice to hide it, you took it out in other ways.”  
“And when we told the lawyer we talked to about all of this,” Anne stepped in. “He said that it could be enough to take your management to court and legally break the contract.”  
“It is?” Louis and Harry looked up hopefully.  
“Maybe,” Jay stressed. “Technically, their main priority should be you boys, even over the band. If we can prove that you're being harmed by their actions and they're refusing to look at another reasonable solution that could benefit both you and them, they could be in breach of contract. You could either force them to renegotiate or dissolve your current contract and find a new management team.”  
“Oh my God,” Louis breathed, pushing his dinner away so he could rest his head on the table.  
“What do we do?” Harry asked, gripping Louis' hand and looking hopefully at their mothers.  
“We suggest going to them first, talk to them before you mention anything about suing,” Anne said. Jay nodded.

It was two days before the boys were able to get an appointment with the heads of the management firm. When the five were escorted into the conference room, Louis wasn't pleased to see Caruthers sitting at the table, but didn't comment. Maybe it was good that he was here to hear everything.  
Louis sat directly opposite Harry McGee, one of the heads of the firm. Harry and the other ranged to his sides, Harry scooting his chair until they were quite close. Louis was determined to be the one taking the brunt of this conversation since it was really him the others were doing this for.  
“Quite a lot of talk about you boys lately,” McGee started, leaning back with his hands folded in front of him. He was interested to see what this was about.  
“We'll have the rumors quieted soon, sir,” Caruthers rushed to say. “This is just a little inconvenience, you'll see.”  
“Obviously not so little if these young men decided to pay us a visit,” was a comment from one of the others.  
McGee watched as Louis' eyes had narrowed slightly when Caruthers spoke. “Is that what this is about, Louis? The rumors?”  
“Partly, yes. We'd like to make sure you know the truth.”  
“Very well. Tell us the truth.” McGee sat forward, intrigued when Caruthers let out a little moan and Louis gave a tiny smirk. What was going on between these two?  
“The rumors claim that Harry and I are together. Romantically.” Louis took a deep breath and took Harry's hand. “That is the truth.”  
Talking erupted around the table. Caruthers pressed his hands to his face.   
McGee just watched the five silent boys at the other end of the long table. “And?”  
Louis was a bit taken aback by the calm question. “Well...” He looked over at Harry.  
“We're not happy that we can't let people know how happy we are together,” Harry said.  
“Why can't you?” McGee asked, making everyone go silent.  
“Uh, because...because our contracts,” Louis said. “We're not allowed. We have an image.”  
McGee's lips twitched. “Show me in your contract where it says you're not allowed to be gay.”  
“Sir!” Caruthers stood up. “They have to continue to portray attractive, available young men if we want their audience to continue to grow the way it has over these two years. Taking two of them off the market, particularly Mr. Styles, by allowing them to be a gay couple, would irreparably damage the image and the reputation of this band!”  
“Sit down, Caruthers,” McGee snapped and was pleased when he was immediately obeyed. Looking at a still shocked Louis, he suppressed a smile. “And how do you react to what he just said. Do you believe it to be true?”  
“No, sir,” Louis said firmly. “Not at all.”  
“Continue.” McGee wanted to know if the boy, all of them, really, were finally prepared to stand up for themselves.  
“Um. Well, about us being available and on 'the market,' sir. I've never been. Ca–Mr. Caruthers has known I was gay since the beginning.”  
“Don't you have a girlfriend?” someone to the side said. “Eleanor, or something?”  
“Yeah, but she's just a girl. Caruthers said I needed a girlfriend to hide that I was gay. There's a contract I signed.”  
McGee raised an eyebrow. “Is this true, Caruthers? Is there a contract with this Eleanor girl?”  
“Yes,” he said, unashamedly. “A small, private contract between her and Louis.”  
“We are supposed to be made aware of all contracts, Caruthers, aren't we? How did we not know about this?”  
A light blush stained the man's cheeks but he refused to look away. “It was included in the paperwork I gave you detailing my recommendations for which appearances would be best to give the band the proper image from the very beginning.”  
“I see,” McGee hummed. “You slipped it through on purpose, then. We'll discuss that later, and any other contracts you might have done the same with.” He held up a hand when Zayn opened his mouth. “Yes, we are already aware of the one between you and Miss Edwards, Zayn.” Zayn sagged a bit and McGee thought that, too, might need to be discussed when he saw Liam do the same.  
“Louis? Is there anything else we might not know about?”  
Louis had been following the conversation, mildly astounded, and jolted back. “Um. Well, I don't know if you know about it, but what Mr. Caruthers said about damaging our reputations? Harry's reputation isn't exactly good, right now, anyway.”  
“Yes. We've been keeping an eye on that situation.”  
Harry looked down, hiding a smile when he saw McGee and a few others giving Caruthers looks. Maybe this wasn't going to go badly.  
Louis squeezed Harry's hand tightly and took a breath. “Sir, I'm sorry to be blunt but, with all of the rumors, Harry and I don't see what the big deal would be if we confirmed them. We've been watching and listening the last few weeks and it doesn't seem like the reaction is all that bad.” He wouldn't tell them that they were the ones to start it all.  
McGee was silent long enough for Harry and Louis to grow nervous, glancing at each other for comfort. It seemed like everyone else was holding their breaths. “I tend to agree with you,” he said finally.  
“Whoop!” Niall shot from his seat before blushing and sitting again. “Sorry.”  
Harry tried to swallow a laugh, as did a few others. Louis was waiting to hear the “but” that was sure to come.  
“However.” Harry immediately sobered at the word and once more took Louis' hand. “We have to do this in the proper fashion. You are not to go out and immediately announce your relationship to the world, is that understood, boys? We must consider all aspects.”  
“But,” Louis started, quieting when McGee held up a hand.  
“Sir, their images,” Caruthers tried to protest, but was silenced with a hard look.  
“You and I will have a conversation as soon as this meeting is over, Caruthers,” McGee said harshly. “Louis, I understand that you want to get this done, I do,” he said more gently. “And it's obvious that the images designed for you, all of you, need some modification. However, you are still public figures and can not do things rashly. Allow us some time to discuss the situation. Give us one week and we will have a plan for you.”  
“A week.”  
“Yes. Come back in seven days and we will discuss this again. It seems to me that you boys will be taking a more active roll in your careers from here on.”  
Louis was still a bit dazed when they were escorted down to the lobby and left. Harry had been forced to drop his hand as they exited the lift, but walked close enough that their arms brushed at every step.  
“A week,” he said suddenly, stopping on the pavement. “One week.”   
Harry laughed and really wished he could wrap his arms around the smaller boy. “We can wait a week, right, Boo?”  
“At least a week,” Liam said, then winced when Zayn's elbow dug into his side and Niall's hand connected with the back of his head. “Sorry. Just saying.”  
Harry laughed again and put an arm around Liam so he had a reason to do the same with Louis. He was just so happy; he couldn't stop smiling. “I wonder what McGee's saying to Caruthers,” he said.  
Louis snorted, leaning in subtly. “I hope he's giving him a right spanking.”  
“I don't think we'll be seeing him again, guys, honestly,” Zayn said.  
Niall suddenly groaned, making the others look at him. “What's McGee mean a more active roll in our careers? More work?” he cried.

The week passed slowly. It almost got to the point when Louis would have been relieved to have an interviewer he could snark at for touch Harry. But the few appearances they'd had scheduled were canceled for various vague reasons. Which led to another wave of rumors about the boys having a major announcement coming and what it could possibly be.  
Fifty percent were sure it was the band breaking up due to the rumors about Harry and Louis.  
The other fifty percent were saying it was Larry Stylinson about to come out of the closet.  
Louis was sure they'd still surprise one hundred percent.  
Because they didn't want to deal with the paps hounding them, all five boys spent most of their time at Louis'. Though more and more cars were slowing down right in front of his door, so he thought maybe their private refuge was about to be discovered.  
Sure enough, the day before their second meeting with management, Louis walked into his bathroom and saw a camera lens in the window. It was the only one he'd not bothered to get blackout blinds for since it was in the rear and had a high shrub mostly blocking it.  
“Fuck!” he shouted, hurrying to redo the single trouser button he'd undone.   
The four other boys looked up from the couch as he stormed past them and out the front door. Scrambling, they followed as he stalked around the building and caught up just in time to see him hauling a photographer out of his shrubs.  
“What the fuck, you little vulture?” he shouted.  
Harry thought Louis didn't look so petite shoving his face into the other man's and waving his arms wildly.  
“You think you're gonna see something good in there? Trying to see the size of my–”  
“Li, help me!” Harry said quickly, darting forward to cover Louis' mouth before he could finish the sentence. Together, he and Liam pulled a furious Louis away, Zayn and Niall stepping forward to block the man when he tried to follow, snapping pictures the whole time.  
“Why are you hiding this place, Louis? What's going on inside? Is this your love nest with Harry? Are you scared someone'll find out? How long have you been together?” the paparazzo shouted, getting louder and louder as Louis got farther away.  
Harry and Liam managed to get Louis inside and pushed down into the chair. And held him there until the others came in, saying that the man was really gone.  
Feeling that it was safe to let go, Harry went into the loo to make sure the window was completely blocked. When he returned, Louis was slumped down in the chair, pouting, as Liam and Zayn gently lectured him on how not to react to the paps. Niall was unhelpfully looking out the front window and counting the cameras that were rapidly appearing once word spread.  
Harry lightly shoved his boyfriend over and sat, pulling one of Louis' legs up over his thighs to be more comfortable. “I think the pressure's just getting to us all, lads,” he said, shooing the others back to the couch. “And how did you react the first time you saw a camera in your loo window when you went for a wee?”  
Liam chuckled. “Actually, never had that happen.” Zayn shook his head, too.   
“I found one staring at me through the kitchen window with me in nothing but my shorts,” Niall said casually, still craning his neck to see the full front walk. “but never the loo.”  
“What did he even expect to see?” Louis demanded, not quite calm.   
Harry rubbed a hand over his leg. “Probably hoping to catch us having shower sex or something. A quickie blow job, maybe, since I'm sure he knew all of were here.”  
Louis snorted and then dissolved into full laughter because Harry had said that all seriously.   
Zayn narrowed his eyes slightly. “Quickie blow job? Why would that be in the loo?”  
Niall finally spun from the window. “Don't tell us...The time Harry couldn't find...While we were here?” he cried. “Eww!”  
Harry just smiled innocently while Louis gave a tiny smirk.

Louis was a little nervous walking into the same large conference room the next day. His little run-in with the paps hadn't made much of a splash from what he could tell, but he didn't know what management would think and how it would affect their announcement.  
“Welcome back, boys,” McGee greeted with a smile. “Have a seat.”  
They took it as a good sign. And the fact that Caruthers wasn't in the room, not had they seen or heard from him all week.  
“So...” Louis started, anxious to hear. “How do we come out?”  
“We've figured out what we think is the best way to handle this,” McGee said, approving that Louis was getting straight to the point. He laid out the plan. “I hope you weren't expecting it to be completely sensationalized. We'd like to keep it as simple as reasonably possible.”  
“No, actually, we don't want to make a big deal about it,” Harry said, quite liking what McGee had said.  
“The press is already going to blow it up, anyway,” Louis agreed. “Might as well keep it simple for them.”  
McGee chuckled. “Okay, then. We'll get started. Before we do, though.” The man's eyes moved to the side subtly. “Are there any other announcements you'd like to make at this time?”  
Zayn looked at Liam and quirked an eyebrow. Liam gave a barely there shrug of one shoulder.  
If someone hadn't been looking for it, they would never have noticed the exchange.  
McGee was looking for it. And waited.  
“No, sir. No other announcements,” Zayn said pleasantly.  
“Very well. If anything comes up, don't be afraid to let us know. You boys are a major seller; we want to keep you happy.”  
“Thank you, sir. We'll be sure to let you know.”  
When they were once again standing on the pavement outside, Louis turned to his friends in question. “What's going on?”  
“Don't know what you mean, mate.”  
“Z, you and Li,” Harry said, confused. Why hadn't they said anything to McGee?  
“Aren't quite ready, yet.” Zayn finished his sentence for him. “This is you and Louis' time. Not ours.”  
“Yeah.” Liam bumped shoulders with Harry. “And can you imagine fans' reactions if all four of us were suddenly 'off the market' at the same time?”  
“I'd get so much attention,” Niall realized, stars in his eyes, making them all laugh.   
Zayn shoved Niall away. “Yeah, best to ease them into it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to comment, critique, whatever.  
> Mistakes are mine.


	16. Chapter 15 - Strong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strong  
> “I'm sorry if I say “I need you”/  
> But I don't care/  
> I'm not scared of love/  
> 'Cause when I'm not with you I'm weaker”  
> “Is it so wrong/  
> That you make me strong?”

The plan started the very next day.  
It was only an article on the Internet about the amiable break-up of Louis Tomlinson and Eleanor Calder, but Harry wanted to print it out and frame it, much to Louis' amusement. And Louis couldn't argue because he felt the same about the article on a different site claiming that the story about Harry dating that little American starlet was, in fact, false; they were merely connected through mutual friends.  
Their hard-core fans quickly found both articles and put them together, but main-stream media didn't pick up the story yet. After all, Harry Styles went through starlets like tissue paper. And Louis Tomlinson wasn't a household name to anyone outside the fan base.  
Next came an announcement of the boys already in the early planning stages of a second world tour. This kept the rumors of a break-up from spreading and gave the fans something else to talk about, other than Harry and Louis.  
They let this settle for several days, giving short interviews merely to confirm that, yes, they were thinking of a second tour. And no, it wouldn't interfere with the release of their second album. No televised interview was more than five minutes long to keep the questions to a minimum and management closely supervised any printed articles, making deals with journalists to keep certain topics under the radar.  
Again, hard-core fans were the only ones to notice that Harry and Louis always sat next to each other during the interviews. Or to notice that Louis' sass always had a cheerful bent now, instead of annoyed. Or that Harry's dimples made twice as many appearances.  
After the excitement about their second tour dies down, the boys started giving longer interviews, where a few questions were allowed about their relationships.  
“So, Louis, I'm sorry to hear that you and the lovely Miss Calder are no longer together,” the man said. “Would it be too forward to ask the story?”  
Louis' eyes widened just slightly when the man put his hand on his shoulder for an instant. And Harry tensed at his side. Perfect timing for Harry's jealous to finally flare up, Louis thought. He had to keep a calm look on his face when, once the man's hand was gone, Harry reached over and pretended to straighten his collar, brushing at his shoulder as he did so.  
“No, it's okay,” Louis said, clearing his throat a little. “With El going to Uni and me having to focus more on the band, we felt it would be best to break it off. We'd been talking about it for a while, actually. Since the middle of our tour.”  
“So, no hard feelings? No unfaithfulness to be found? On either side?”  
Louis smiled pleasantly. “No. There was nothing of the sort. Our obligations just lead us in different directions. I have no need for a girlfriend in my life.”  
“Well, at least there's no scandal there. I hope the same can be said for you, Zayn. Both you and Perrie seem to be quite busy with your careers. Are we to be saddened by another One Direction break-up in the future?”  
Louis subtly gripped Harry's hand as the interviewer's attention was given to Zayn. Leaning over, he whispered, “Easy, curly.” And received a tiny jealous pout.  
“Well, Harry?”  
The youngest band member looked up at the sound of his name to find the interviewer waiting expectantly. “Um. Sorry?”  
That got a few chuckles as the man repeated himself. “I hope that's not the real answer. I said, as the youngest of you five, and the one with the most relationships to date, what do you say to your mates with long-term partners? Not 'sorry', surely.”  
Harry laughed a little. “No. Actually, I'm a bit jealous, to be honest. I'd like to settle down with someone special.” Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Louis quickly hide a smirk by rubbing at his lips.  
The man grinned. “I'm sure our females viewers will love to hear that, Harry.”  
When enough hints had been dropped in the interviews, Harry and Louis waited anxiously for their opportunity. Management was keeping a very close eye on the reactions and some major entertainment journalists were starting to ask some serious questions.  
McGee gave the go ahead just before the boys planned to take a break from recording their album and go home for the holidays. “It's the perfect time. Once you make the announcement, there will be a perfectly valid reason for you to be out of the spotlight if, for some unseen reason, you need to be. Though I highly doubt you'll need it.”  
Nick Grimshaw's radio show was chosen as he wouldn't be blindsided by the announcement like other hosts would be. Louis wasn't thrilled, but didn't argue.  
“Welcome back, One Direction.” Nick wagged his brows playfully as he pushed the button for canned applause. “And can I just say Happy Christmas and Happy Holidays since I hear you'll be leaving the fair city of London, soon?”  
Harry laughed. “Yeah, we're headed back to spend time with our families. But London is still our home,” he assured the listeners.  
“Good to hear. Good to hear. Do I hear wedding bells? Zayn? Liam? Nice, white, winter wedding?”  
Both boys laughingly denied anything of the sort. Louis narrowed his eyes. The way Nick had phrased it sounded like the two boys would be marrying each other. Had Nick been told to start dropping those hints already?  
“No? Pity. But there's another announcement for today, isn't there, boys? And a pretty big one if the things people are whispering are true.”  
“Well, we don't think the announcement is all that big, but your listeners might,” Louis started. He and Harry had discussed how they wanted to do it.  
“Do tell, Mr. Tomlinson. We're waiting.” He used a ticking sound effect.  
“Well, I'm once again in a relationship.”  
Nick blinked. And pressed the button for a sinking sound. “As nice as it is to hear, not exactly the ground-breaking news we were expecting, to be honest.”  
“You haven't heard who the relationship is with, yet,” Harry laughed.  
“Oh? And who would that be?” Drum roll.  
“Me.”  
Even though he'd been expecting it, Nick coughed in surprise. “Care to repeat that, Harry?”  
“Louis Tomlinson and I, Harry Styles, are in a relationship.”  
“Well. This is news. Ground-breaking news. Earth-shattering. Now, before we go to the phones that have lit up like the Christmas tree here in the studio, I'll ask the one question everyone is probably wondering. When did this start, exactly?”  
Harry laughingly waved that off with “That's our business, Nick” since they didn't want to have to explain that Louis hadn't really been cheating on Eleanor.  
They stayed in the studio for awhile with the other boys as Nick took calls. Most didn't ask questions, just congratulated them on being brave, on finding love, etc.  
Nick had no shame hanging up on anyone the moment homophobic or cruel words appeared. “What are they doing listening to a gay DJ, then?” he joked into his microphone.  
“Can you let one of them through?” Louis asked when Nick went to a short commercial.  
Everyone looked at him strangely. “Why?” Nick asked, honestly curious. “You want to listen to that bullshit?”  
“We'll hear it eventually,” Louis shrugged.  
“Okay, then. If another one calls, it's all yours.”  
Harry pulled Louis aside. “What are you doing?”  
Louis pressed a kiss to his lips and then froze, remembering that they were in public. Then he remembered that they didn't have to hide anymore, so he beamed and did it again, just because. “Trust me, curly.”  
“Fine. But I'll tell Nick to cut it off if I don't like what I hear.”  
“Let me handle it,” Louis said as Nick waved them back over.  
It was a few minutes before the call Louis was waiting for came. It was a young woman on the other end and Louis thought it was perfect.  
“I'm just going to say that I'm not a fan. I never was,” came the slightly smug voice.  
“Why, thank you, so much,” Louis said, smiling and making everyone look at him like he was crazy. “It's a pleasure to hear.”  
“Whatever. My little sister loves you guys, though. And, now, finding out that you're gay? I'm never going to buy her another thing about you freaks.”  
“Oh, I love name calling. Your name's Lyndsay, right?”  
“If she thinks I'm taking her to one of your gay ass concerts ever again...I'll make sure she knows just how disgusting you really are.”  
Louis propped his chin on one hand as he spoke into the microphone. “Lyndsay, before you continue on this fascinating and endearing rant, can I ask you a question?”  
“Whatever,” she said again.  
“Are you dating anyone?”  
“What the fuck do you care? Yes, I'm dating someone. A real man. Unlike you and your freak boyfriend.”  
“And do you love him, Lyndsay?” he asked pleasantly. He shook his head when Harry started to lean forward to again ask him what he was doing. “Your real man?”  
“What does that have to do with anything?”  
“I'll explain. Please, answer the question.”  
She huffed. “Yeah, I guess I love him.”  
Louis laughed slightly. “Ah, true love. Then I guess you understand when I talk about loving someone so much that you'd do anything for them. So much that you'd be willing to put up with bullshit just to be with them because it physically hurts to be apart. Loving someone so much that, even being young, you're willing to spend the rest of your life with them. Because just the thought of being without them sends you to your knees.” He sighed dreamily. “But then, the moment they come back in the room, even after only a few minutes away, it's like the sun's come out from the clouds and filled you with this amazing strength so you know you can do absolutely anything as long as you're together. Do you love your real man like that, Lyndsay?” he asked, polite curiosity in his voice. “Do you?”  
There was silence, though Louis knew she hadn't hung up.  
His voice turned hard. “Because that's how much I love Harry and if that means that we're freaks and disgusting, then I gladly claim those titles. If that means we're not real men, I feel sorry for all the real men out there because they'll never feel like this. If that means you or your little sister aren't coming to our concert, then, honey, please, leave the seats open for our real fans. We don't need you.”  
Louis slammed his headset down and smirked, happy with how that had gone. Looking around, he blushed when he noticed all of the stares. Not only were Harry, Nick, and the other boys staring, but the producer in the other booth and people out in the hall who had heard over the actual radio were looking in through the big window.  
Nick cleared his throat when he realized there was dead air. “Well. That was...” He had to clear his throat again. “Louis Tomlinson, I do believe you're the first person to ever leave me speechless.” A buzzer sounded and everyone jumped. “Oh, and that, ladies and gents, means we'll have to say good-bye to the eloquent Mr. Tomlinson and the rest of One Direction. Lines will, of course, stay open for questions and comments, but I'm not sure I'll be able to add anything to that wonderful speech. You heard it here, first, people. Louis Tomlinson is head over heels in love with Harry Styles.”  
When he was on commercial, Nick took off his own headset. “Damn. That was...that was beautiful, Louis.”  
“Finally found words then, huh, Nick,” Louis joked. It was all he managed to say before Harry grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the studio, down the hall, and out the door.  
Zayn watched them go before turning back with a grin. “You didn't happen to record that, did you?”  
The producer immediately handed over a CD. “Wanted it for my own collection,” she said with a shrug.  
Outside, Louis bit his lip as he watched Harry pace. The moment they'd exited the station, Paul had directed them to a little walkway to the side of the building that would give them privacy. He and their driver had been listening to the interview in the car.  
“Harry?” Louis didn't like that he couldn't tell what Harry was thinking. He didn't think the younger boy would be upset by what he'd said, but maybe he'd misjudged? Maybe he'd gone too far? “I'm so–”  
Harry held up one hand to stop his words. “Don't you dare apologize, Louis William Tomlinson.”  
“Um. Okay.” He waited. And waited. “What should I say?”  
Harry was suddenly right in front of him. “I think you've said enough. You've said more than enough. You've said everything. Everything that you could possibly have said.”  
Louis waited impatiently for the actual reaction. Harry wasn't giving him anything! “What does that mean?”  
“It means that I'm trying to figure out what to say that could possibly equal what you said in there. And I can't think of anything. How am I supposed to tell you that I love you more than you can possibly know when everything you said is exactly how I feel? The fact that you said all of that over the radio to some stupid girl just to prove how stupid she really was, only makes it better. How am I supposed to beat that?”  
Louis burst out laughing in relief and jumped into Harry's arms. “You don't have to beat it, Harry,” he said, wrapping his legs around Harry's waist and letting the other boy press him gently back against the brick wall. “I wanted to say all that over the radio so no one could possibly think that I don't love you. It'll keep me from having to say it over and over again, though I actually won't mind if I'm forced to, anyway.”  
Harry giggled a little and rested his face in the crook of Louis' neck. “You're not the only one who can't breathe without this. You're not the only one who gets weak without this,” he whispered, bringing tears to Louis' eyes.  
Someone awkwardly cleared their throat off to the side. Harry looked over as Louis quickly dropped his legs and swiped at his cheeks to make sure there were no stray tears. Being able to actually show their feelings for each other in public was still too new for them to be comfortable being caught.  
Niall was standing at the beginning of the walkway, shifting uncomfortably and not really looking at them. “I drew the short straw. The paps are coming.” With the warning given, he rushed away.  
Laughing, Harry and Louis hurried, hand-in-hand, to get to the car before they were spotted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to comment, critique, whatever.  
> Mistakes are my own.


	17. Chapter 16 - Happily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happily  
>  “I don't care what people say when we're together/  
>  You know I wanna be the one to hold you when you sleep/  
>  I just want it to be you and I forever/  
>  I know you wanna leave so come on baby be with me so happily.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. The End. Hope you enjoyed.   
> To celebrate, I attempted a little actual sex. If you don't wanna read, just skip the bit between the line breaks. Nothing really important happens, so you don't miss anything except probably bad writing.

The reaction to their coming out was everything they'd hoped for and nothing they'd feared. Louis' speech was played in its entirety again and again over the radio and even played on TV. The story was massive, just as they thought it would be. Two members of the biggest boy band in the world coming out as, not only homosexual, but as a couple. And one obviously very deeply in love. It was all anyone in the music industry could talk about.  
And Harry and Louis watched it all curled up in front of the fireplace inside the bungalow where Louis reluctantly admitted to having started to have feelings for Harry all those months before. They were having a private celebration for Louis' birthday before joining their families together at Anne's house for Christmas and New Years.  
Shifting so his legs tangled even more with Louis' under their blanket, Harry stretched his arms and yawned, completely relaxed. “How's the feed?” he asked.  
Louis looked up from where his laptop rested in his thighs. They were sitting propped up against opposite ends of the couch. He was watching their Twitter accounts to find out what their fans' reactions were after the news really sank in.   
He grinned. “Hasn't changed.” It had been days. “We're still nine of the top ten world-wide trends. I think we've gained three million followers just the two of us, and another one between Zayn, Liam, Niall, and our official account.”  
Harry closed his eyes and hummed. “Even with all the ones unfollowing us?”  
“Even with. And I don't even have to respond to the nasty comments. The moment they pop up, about fifteen angry others are there to tell them how wrong they are. It's quite fun watching. I love our fans.” He put his laptop on the floor and pushed the blanket away so he could crawl over Harry. “I love you, curly.”  
Harry opened one eye with a smirk. “Yeah?”  
“Yeah.”  
“I love you, too, Boo.” He raised his head slightly to kiss the boy hovering over him.  
“Wanna go to bed?” Louis asked, keeping their lips touching.  
“Mhmm.”  
Five minutes later, when they came up for air, “You have to move, Boo.”  
“Don't wanna,” Louis muttered.  
“Me, neither, but I need the loo.”  
Laughing, Louis rolled off of him. He yawned and stretched and wandered into the bedroom as Harry darted into the bathroom. Since they hadn't bothered getting dressed, all he did was pull off the jumper he'd dragged on and flop down on the mattress.  
“Louis, what's this?” Harry asked, coming into the room.  
He looked over and saw his boyfriend holding a small box and frowned. “Dunno. Where was it?”  
“Sitting on the bathroom sink. Oh, there's a note.”  
Closing his eyes, Louis shook his head. Of course Harry wouldn't immediately look for a note before asking him.  
“It's from Niall. And says 'Don't tell anyone.' Huh. I wonder what that means.”  
“Open it already, Harry,” Louis demanded, curious.  
Harry blushed bright red when he slipped the lid off and pulled out a tube of banana scented lube. “Um.”  
Louis sat straight up. “I'm gonna kill him.”  
Giggling, Harry set the tube on the nightstand and undressed before crawling into bed. “It's probably just a joke. No need to murder anyone.”  
But Louis couldn't stop staring at the thing. His mind was suddenly thinking of all the things they could do. Harry had finally grown comfortable with his body again, not shying away from Louis seeing him naked. They'd done a few things in the bedroom, but Louis had always been very careful not to let it go too far for fear of reminding Harry what happened to him.   
“Do you trust me, Harry?” he asked suddenly.  
Harry immediately sobered, understanding. “Louis, I...I don't think...”  
“Shh. Just answer the question. Do you trust me?” Louis asked, looking straight into the green eyes of his love. Harry nodded.  
Climbing out of bed and never taking his eyes from Harry's, Louis stripped. Harry had started sleeping naked again, so there was no need there. He crawled slowly back onto the bed until he was propped on his hands and knees over the younger boy. “There's more than one way to do this,” he said quietly, gently kissing him.

 

Harry moaned softly when Louis reached between them and slowly started stroking Harry to full hardness. Louis ground his hips down, pressing into Harry's and making them both shudder as they moved together. They'd done this before, so he knew exactly what moves to make to quickly get Harry writhing in pleasure and they both cried out their releases at the same time.  
As he watched Harry recover, eyes closed and cheeks flushed, Louis grabbed the little container of lube. A few minutes later, he put it back and took Harry back in his slick hand.  
“Again?” Harry said groggily; he'd almost fallen into a blissful sleep.  
“Again.” And Louis wasn't disappointed when Harry hardened again almost instantly.  
Harry's eyes flew open as he felt something different. He stared up in shock, watching as Louis slowly lowered over him, taking him into his body. “Lou–”  
But Louis clapped a hand over his mouth to silence him. With his other hand on Harry's chest to keep his balance, Louis focused on slowly pressing down, biting his lip to keep the moans in until he was fully seated on Harry's hips.  
Carefully leaning forward, he couldn't hold back the long, low moan. He took his hand from Harry's mouth and replaced it with his lips. “Don't talk. Just feel,” he murmured. Sitting up again, he licked his lips and grinned. “You taste like bananas.”  
Because Louis accompanied the words was a swivel of his hips, Harry didn't respond, only dug his fingers into Louis' skin and felt his eyes roll back.  
As his body adjusted, Louis experimented with little movements, finding which sent sparks of pleasure through his own body and what made Harry bite his lip until Louis had to gently remove it before it bled.  
When he couldn't take any more pleasure and he wasn't sure Harry hadn't already passed out, Louis took Harry's hands in his and pressed them into the mattress as their sides, using his thighs to gently raise and lower his body until the only sound in the room was a continuous moan coming from two sets of lips.  
“Lou!” Harry gasped, his eyes shooting open as he came harder than before.  
Louis' laugh was choked off by his own release and he slumped forward slightly, exhausted. “I told you there was more than one way to do this.”

 

When Louis rolled back into bed after throwing away the rag he'd used to clean them off, he turned onto his side and smiled when Harry instantly wrapped his larger body around him.  
“Louis, that was...that was amazing,” Harry breathed in his ear. “Thank you.”  
“My pleasure, curly,” Louis said with a smirk. “Maybe we'll do it again some time.” He was about to let himself sleep when he groaned slightly. “Stop biting your lip and say it, Harry,” he said, not needing to look to know he was right.  
“It didn't...You aren't...hurt?”  
Louis rolled over, staying firmly in Harry's arms. He wiggled his hips slightly. And looked directly into Harry's eyes, completely serious. “No. Not hurt. Felt really, really good, actually.”  
“But...”  
Seeing the confusion and fear in Harry's eyes, Louis gently pushed him onto his back, propping himself on his hands over him. “You don't need to be worried about that, Harry. I swear, I'm not hurt. I know it hurt you, I know. But what that man did, what those men did to you wasn't anything like what we just did.” He kissed Harry gently. “We just made love because we're in love and we both wanted it. They raped you. They wanted to hurt you. Did you want to hurt me?”  
Harry shook his head rapidly. “Of course not.”  
“That's why I'm not hurt. The two things are completely different. Completely. Entirely.” He kissed Harry again and again in reassurance. “Please trust me to tell you if anything we do hurts me and I'll trust you to tell me if anything hurts you, okay?”  
“Yeah. I just...I don't think I'll be able to...you know,” Harry stuttered.  
Louis smiled gently and laid back down. “Don't worry, curly. If all we ever do is what we just did, I'm fine with that. Believe me. Like I said, it felt really, really good. I'd put up with it for you.”  
Harry laughed a little and squeezed him closer. A minute later, “You'd do anything for me, wouldn't you, Boo.”  
Louis sighed. Apparently he wouldn't be allowed to sleep. “Curly, I'd carry your giant, gangly bulk through fire if I had to.”  
Another giggle and squeeze. “And I'd carry your tiny, pixie body over the oceans if I had to, Boo.”  
Five minutes later, Louis was just on the edge of sleep when he heard, “How about you just walk down an aisle with me?” And groaned.  
“Fine, curly, I'll walk down...” He trailed off as his tired mind caught on and he shot straight up, wide awake, looking down at a grinning Harry. “Harry Edward Styles, did...did you just...propose?” he demanded.  
“Maybe.”  
Leaning down until their noses touched, Louis narrowed his eyes. “Yes or no.”  
“Probably.”  
“Yes. Or. No.”  
“Yes. Yes, I did,” Harry said, only slightly worried what Louis would say.  
“Yes. Yes. Yes. I. Will. Walk. Down an. Aisle. For. You.” Louis answered, kissing him again and again between each word.  
Giant dimples appeared as a smile exploded on Harry's face and he wrapped Louis tightly in his arms, bringing him back to lay down. “Good.”  
Louis wiggled and hummed happily, pressing back against his boyfriend. Fiance. And knew he'd never be getting to sleep. The proposal hadn't been one out of the story books, not even one of those crappy £2 romances he could find at Tesco's – not that he'd ever even glanced at those, of course. But it had been perfectly Harry. And that made it perfect.  
Harry didn't have to be able to see Louis' face to know that he was beaming brightly. To him, Louis always shined. Yeah, the light had dimmed for a short space of time recently, but the older boy had always remained like his own personal North Star. Shining day and night to lead him on through the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to comment, critique, whatever.  
> Mistakes are my own.


End file.
